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A PRINCESS OF THE ORIENT 


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A PRINCESS OF THE 
ORIENT 


BY 


ETHEL BLACK KEALING 


rf 


Tl\e CKristopher Press 


Copyright igi8 

By Ethbl Bback Keabing 


iebicatinn 

Beep in tlje Ijeari nf tl)e teb, reb Snae 
ta tt;e fate of mg ^iatec. Butt; 


I 


♦ 


CONTENTS 


BOOK I. 


Chapter 


Page 

1. 

THE PRINCESS ROXANA 

7 

II. 

THE KING OF EGYPT .... 

. 23 

III. 

M. THERON, PRINCE GOVERNOR OF 



CAIRO 

. 28 

IV. 

THE KING’S HEARING .... 

. 32 

V. 

THE ROYAL FESTIVAL .... 

. 42 

VI. 

THE COFFEE SHOP .... 

. 47 

VII. 

LADY CATHERINE .... 

. 54 


BOOK II. 


VIII. 

LADY VIVIAN, DAUGHTER TO THE KING 59 

IX. 

SWEET IDLENESS .... 

. 65 

X. 

THE SHEPHERD . . . . . 

. 72 

XI. 

THE TAX 

. 75 

XII. 

CYNTHIA, THE MOON .... 

. 80 

XIII. 

THE DISTRICT MEETING 

. 89 

XIV. 

CLOSE COUNCIL 

. 98 

' 

BOOK III 


XV. 

THE SAND WIZARD .... 

. 102 

XVI. 

IN THE MULBERRY GROVE 

. 107 

XVII. 

THE SALE OF BONDS .... 

. 114 

XVIII. 

THE POISON RING .... 

. 117 

XIX. 

A BRIBE 

. 121 

XX. 

FINISHING STROKES .... 

. 126 

XXI. 

THE SMELLING OF THE ZEPHYRS, 



SHEWIN-EN-NESEEM 

. 136 


BOOK IV. 


XXII. 

THE RETURN TO THE TEMPLE 

. 143 

XXIII. 

ONE CONTRITE HEART 

. 145 

XXIV. 

THE FISHERIES OF FEIYOOM . 

. 148 

XXV. 

THE BATH 

. 153 

XXVI. 

A HIDDEN HAND 

. 159 


CONTENTS 


Chapter Page 

XXVII. THE ARREST OF THE PRINCE GOVERNOR 

M. THERON 163 

XXVIII. IN THE SOCIETY OP THE GODS . . .173 


BOOK V. 

XXIX. A SCULPTORESS AT WORK . . .181 

XXX. THE SHEPHERD AND THE LOST THORN 187 

XXXI. THE SHEPHERD IN IRONS . . .194 

XXXII. A FESTIVAL OP LANTERNS . . .198 

XXXIII. VESPERS 206 

XXXIV. THE SEVEN WHISTLERS AND THE 

GOLDEN CALF 210 

XXXV. THE SHEPHERD’S DREAM . . . .215 


BOOK VI. 


XXXVI. THE SHEPHERD’S DREAM INTERPRETED 



BY THE SOOTH-SAYER . 

. 221 

XXXVII. 

A MISUSED DIVINATION 

. 225 

XXXVIII. 

THE TORTUB OF THE SHEPHERD . 

. 230 

XXXIX. 

THE BLUE MUSE 

. 234 

XL. 

CHLORIS, GODDESS OP FLOWERS . 

. 241 

XLI. 

THE SPEECH OF BIRDS 

. 248 

XLII. 

A NEW GOVERNMENT .... 

. 255 


BOOK VII. 


XLIII. 

PICTURE WRITING, A PICTURE WITH 



A MORAL 

. 257 

XLIV. 

THE COUNCIL CONVENES . 

. 262 

XLV. 

A PROCLAMATION .... 

. 268 

XLVI. 

AN EMPTY PRISON .... 

. 277 

XLVII. 

PLEASURES AS EVER .... 

. 286 

XLVIII. 

A SPRING GARDEN . ... 

. 292 

XLIX. 

AN ORIENTAL DREAM 

. 301 

L. 

THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE GODS 

. 315 


A Princess of the Orient 


CHAPTER I. 

THE PRINCESS ROXANA. 

Look to the blowing Rose about us — ‘^Lo, 
Laughing” she says, ‘Hnto the world I blow, 

At once the silken tassel of my Purse 
Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden Throw.” 

XIV — Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. 

The beautiful Persian Princess enveloped in a full linen 
cloak; her face covered with a linen veil out of which her 
two sparkling brown eyes were peering through the two 
inch square perforated holes. And her two feet thrust into 
two huge bags of red leather, was returning from hawking 
in the jangals of Persia. 

“Men turn thy eyes away,” cried an attendant, as the 
fair Princess gracefully rode, up the sunken roadway lead- 
ing into her palatial abode. The bright flaming sun. Shend- 
ing a warm glow was falling and covering the whole country 
with a bright beauty, and as the Princess entered into her 
court garden, passing a most unique circular marble fountain. 
She was struck in silent admiration of the picture before 
her; that of the reflection of the oriental sun’s rays upon 
the water in this fountain. The warm sun did shine, seem- 
ingly, as never before upon the lands of this beautiful 
Oriental country. The marvelous glow of its shining rays 
shend a mighty luxurious sympathy. 

The dark Princess, this daughter of Nature was in tune 
with Nature, her amorous Soul was awakened and her 
thoughts inclined her to the beautiful and she bent to the 
vivacious whims of artful Nature. She faltered as she 
entered into the stone walled garden and she fell to watch- 
ing some two or three magnificent swans. Swimming lazily 
in the pellucid water of this marble fountain. The snowy 


8 


A Princess of the Orient 


feathered swans held her fancy for a fleeting time for they 
fascinated her as they gracefully floated hither and thither 
across the fountain’s pool, with the natural grace belonging 
to the swan. Soon. Very soon, the Princess tired of the 
lazy play of these swans, and as if in a quicker contrast 
to their most indolent strokes, she lithely tripped farther 
into the spacious garden. Neither did she falter until she 
entered into a much smaller, ironed garden and there stood 
a cage. Within the center of this garden. The Princess, 
standing closely to the cage beckoned and called to a 
huge, beautifully marked tiger; this fawn tiger almost sav- 
agely, rushed forward and toward her, and she stroked its 
soft fur through the slender, blacken iron bars of its cage. 
A pair of brightest eyes in its upturned face wore an in- 
tense appeal. Then. In its mute way, a look of pride and 
a fondness came into them for the Princess and with the 
greatest courage and energy this petted animal leaped as 
upon her in his playful mood. The Princess familiar with 
the natural pranks of her petted tiger, provoked it, then, 
to a greater play, only to find this tiresome sport. After 
having keenly aroused him she drew from her sack a 
lifeless hawk. A splendid hawk. Upon seeing this hawk 
before his eyes, the tiger begged for the prey, while the 
Princess in the spirit of play would hold the hawk first 
closely, then away from him, until with the most excited 
and very ferocious manner, he tore the hawk from her 
hand, devouring it ravenously. The tiger’s blood thirsty 
nature become so fully aroused for another prey, that the 
Princess, stepped away in haste and passed out of the small 
ironed garden. While the petted tiger surging from one 
end of its garden cage to another, pressing hard and close 
against the ironed walls, lost all sight of her, for she had 
disappeared through a thicken and shapely hedge of pome- 
granites. 

The Princess approached a quaintly. Significant. Yew 
tea house sheltered, snugly by a cluster of thickest pome- 
granites. In the opening of the yew tea house. A black 
slave bowed in service before the Princess. The slave mov- 
ing in nimble strides backward, with bowed head, humbly 
escorted her into the whimisical, antique Oriental tea house. 

My Princess of the Royal House. Enter. Thy divan 
hast been in readiness for thee, since morning. Seest thou, 
the newly cut sprigs of the fresh box trees and the rustic 
vines. I have festooned the entire tea house with them. 


A Princess of the Orient 


9 


that they might charm the eye of my Royal Princess. 

Bacha, my slave and thou indeed, hast done well, thy 
work and with a most clever skill. A beautiful art, my 
good man. Thy Princess is much pleased with the labour of 
thy clever hands, Bacha. 

Ah I My Princess, the lanterns, they are not lighted. 
Rest thyself. I will torch them, for thy goodly pleasure, 
my Princess. 

Bacha thou art indeed, good and faithful. Thou dost 
find goodly favour with thy Princess, and, speaking thus, 
the Princess reclined herself in a restful posture upon a 
rustic bark divan, whereupon she watched the slave busily 
torching the artistic mazarine lanterns. 

Bacha hast thou not yet rested thyself? Surely. Thou 
hast not been hard at thy labours all this day! Long thou 
hast been labouring since early dawn. I would not have 
thee weary thyself unduly and rememberst thou art not, now, 
in the days of thy youth and greatest vigor. 

Kindest of all, my Princess, I have laboured since early 
dawn. My labours are as yet, unfinished. And. Thou, 
my Princess hast been in the jangals since the earliest hours 
of the day. And thou, too, must be weary and much 
fatigued, responded the black slave. 

True. Bacha I have tramped the dense jangals since 
the first hours of the day. Ah! But Sijan, could he but 
have the tongue of mortal to tell of my game! 

My Princess, a hawk didst thou fetch Sijan? And the 
slave stood rubbing his hands vigorously, his eyes gleam- 
ing with imagination of this sport. 

Nay, responded the Princess, not one hawk Bacha. I 
fetched my himting sack filled with hawks. But one did 
I give to Sijan. The others, I placed them in his crib for 
the morrow. They were magnificent specimens. I tell 
thee, Bacha the sport was glorious! But my good man, 
none of thy savory mead hast thou? Then. No mead 
for thy famished Princess? The mead has been potted, my 
Princess. I will serve thee immediately. The Princess’s 
eyes languidly followed the black slave as he served her 
with an ivory tray upon which was a quaint silver handled 
glass filled with the tempting liquor. Mead. The Princess 
sipped of this mead then as if in sickly pain, she beckoned 
the slave to remove the cart. Princess, my mead? Dost 
not find favour with thy taste? And the slave looked 
alarmed. 


10 


A Princess of the Orient 


Yea, Bacha. Thy mead is the one delicious beverage 
thou dost pour for thy Princess. But to-day, within this 
hour, alack, it is but a whim of mine. Quickly remove the 
cart, the scent doth only faint me. The vapor doth sicken 
my senses. 

The black slave in a hurried confusion removed the tea- 
cart and returned to find the Princess, with her face buried 
in both her slender hands. My Princess, speak! Bacha thy 
slave is upon his knees, waiting to attend thee. 

And the Princess raised her head, and her eyes fell upon 
the slave who was upon his knees before her, upon his face 
a pained look. Sweetly she smiled and spake unto him. 

Bacha, be thou not so foolish. Upon thy feet, I am not 
ill. Go at once, fetch thou my pipe-agrette. And the 
Princess laughed lightly as the frightened slave in trembling 
fear, arose so hurriedly and served her with an oddly de- 
signed pipe-agrette fashioned so, after the Persian pipe- 
agrette. Then. The fair Princess tripped lightly across the 
house and reclined herself upon another bench moulded of 
marble. The marble being stained with the brightest oriental 
colourings, and it was covered with curious skins. Reclin- 
ing upon this bench, the Princess in this dreamy attitude 
wafted into realms, akin to idle dreams. She fell to soliloquiz- 
ing. And to her the whole universe was bounded by the 
borders of Persia lands. The misty smoke from her pipe- 
agrette, curling lazily before her languid eyes, soaring above 
her dignified head. Lent fantastic dreams to her wild 
fancies. And she seemed more listless as she was bent in 
this idyl, and intoxicated with. Perchance ichor. For the 
gods alone could impregnate such lavish dreams. 

Lo! the sport of the hawking season. The most thrilling 
season in Persia, when the rarest charms of Nature inweave 
all the fond desires of the vigilant Soul. Yea. Snares 
mortal into the verve of luxurious repose. The bright gar- 
dens, the lusty fields, the glorious aspect of the confusing 
jangals, harmonize now, with the sweetest perfumed zephers 
wafting so softly from the rose fields and shending from 
the rich pomegranite fields. The lucid sighs of the rustling 
leaves of the whiten sycamore trees, as they meet the grace- 
ful bending branches of the gigantic elms. The free cry 
of the different birds in the open fields and the vastly se- 
cluded groves. Even unto the solemn chimes of the Bell- 
bird, the twittering of the wilder birds in the more distant 
ravines. All. Harmonize. The jangals, sheltering the 


A Princess of the Orient 


11 


twisted paths of the savage beasts, in this season, seemth 
not a grove of long lonely and flightly trails. Not haunts 
of terror, for all has gracefully and tunefully slipped into 
its part. Individually. Into the conventional picture of 
Nature, wherein all seems versed in beautiful free expres- 
sion. Alack, the gods may smile upon mortal! Such ten- 
der, so pleasant dreams do delight their hearts and souls. 
’Tis an altruism for we soar, we mount the highest peaks of 
the most heavenly delights. Once there. We roam in the 
hidden, the real desires of our hearts. And I prythee. O 
gods of the universe, why not? 

Upon this moment the Princess suddenly opened her eyes. 
She sat erect. Then she turned in alarm. Bacha, Bacha! 

Yea, my Princess. I am here. I have remained near 
thy side, all the while, thou didst recline thy self. What 
wouldst thou? 

The hour? Bacha, what is the hour? 

The bell is but now sounding the last stroke of the mid- 
day hour, your ladyship. 

’Tis mid-day, Bacha? ’Tis midday and yet he doth not 
come. The Princess covered her face with her hands. For 
one moment, only. 

The next instant she started with a haunt. She spake 
with nearly a smothering sob. 

But. The Star hath spoken. Upon the morrow nigh 
unto midday thy lover doth enter into Persia lands. 

The black slave, who was standing by the side of the 
bench upon which the princess was reclined, hearing the 
name of the Sacred Star upon the lips of the Princess, fell 
upon his knees in suppliance. And the Princess looked 
down upon his bent form with a pity. 

Bacha, my man. Arise. Taketh thou my pipe-agrette. 
And quite hastily the Princess turned, leaving the tea-house. 
As lithely as she had entered into it only the hour before. 
She passed without the low opening of the tea house just 
as the last chime of the clock died in its clinging echoes. 

The slave with great care placed the turquoise bowled 
pipe within an ivory cabinet, clasping it securely, he placed 
it upon an odd shelf which served as one of the few orna- 
ments in the tea house. Almost inaudibly. For the slave 
feared. And his hard whitest teeth clattered in august 
fear. And he all but whispered. 

The Princess doth grieve with a heavy heart of sorrow. 
It doth sadden this old heart of mine, for have I not served 


12 


A Princess of the Orient 


her with these willing hands since the very first day that 
the Shah fetched her? Here. Into this palace of the Shah? 
The Princess, a motherless child? I have served her since 
she was a mere babe. Almost. The gods deliver up my 
soul, for if this Egyptian lover does play my fair Princess 
false. I crush him. The gods hearth my words, if these 
old hands be too feeble, I trowth by yon Sacred Star! I 
will strangle his wicked throat and pitch his lifeless body 
into Sijan’s ironed cage. Upon uttering these words tEe 
old slave fell upon the floor of the yew house, and still, 
he was uttering low guttural sounds. In which all the 
vicious threats of the low oriental caste, were shaped. 

A marked feeling of awe overcome Princess Roxana and 
she sped rapidly on through the halls of the palace, at 
last entering into her own bed-chamber. 

’Tis mid-day. And more too. And yet he doth not come. 
It was only yestern morn the dervish upon the public lane, 
spake these words unto me. 

Princess Roxana, thy anxious fears be arrested. Thou 
dost not hope in vain for thy lover doth enter into Persia. 
Tomorrow upon the hour of mid-day. 

The glass tube, where have I concealed it? The Princess 
spake as if for her own ears. 

Bacha, go thou find the long glass stick. The one that 
which I entrusted to the goodly care of thy hands. 

The Princess turned to a slave woman who answered her 
promptly. My Princess, I go at once to fetch the stick. 
I have locked it within the silver chest. The slave woman 
moved quickly to another part of the chamber, she opened 
a silver chest and removing the glass stick from this chest, 
she returned in haste to the Princess. The eyes of the 
Princess fell upon the glass stick filled with sand. 

Bacha, exclaimed the Princess. Thou rememberst. Twirl 
the stick. Seven times round this burning candle. I have 
torched the candles. Fetch, the stick here, hold it nearest 
the white candle. Now. Quick. Bacha, what dost thou 
behold? 

The suspense held the lovely face of the Princess in hard 
lines. 

My Princess, I can distinguish it plainly. Yea, mine 
eyes follow each grain of this whiten sand. Behold, I can 
distinguish the form of thy lover approaching thy palace. 
Within the very hour. Bacha! Speak not in jest. And 


A Princess of the Orient 


13 


mark ye. Neither make thy words to sympathize with thy 
Princess. Fetch thou the stick unto me. In haste. 

A sudden alarm from the garden gates caused the Prin- 
cess to falter and she turned to the slave woman. For the 
sound without came into her chamber through a window 
which opened into the court. 

List! Bacha, who is it? Some one doth strike the strings 
of the bow. Go thou, in haste and return as quickly unto 
me. 

The slave woman descended the halls where she was met 
with a stranger. Standing just without the gates of the 
palace gardens. 

The slave bowed before this stranger then she addressed 
him. Thou art a stranger within the palace gardens? 
What is thy mission? Dost thou come to the Royal House 
of the Persian Shah, a guest to be of the most noble Shah? 
Dost thou come to greet the lovely daughter to the Shah, 
the Princess Roxana? 

I come as a guest into the Royal House of Persia. I come 
to greet the Princess Roxana, daughter to the great Persian 
Shah. Then. Stranger within the Persian lands. The 
Princess Roxana doth send thee word. 

Slave, bear unto thy Princess these words. A stranger. 
One from Egyptian lands doth await without her gates. 
Bear more unto thy Princess. 

Bacha! Bacha! broke in the hasty voice of the Princess 
from a balcony above the court garden. Doth this stranger 
not send greeting unto the Princess of the Royal House? 

At this interruption the black slave turned, leaving the 
stranger standing in a dumb silence. 

My Princess, cried the slave woman as she approached her 
upon this balcony. My Princess, woe for my wanton brain. 
This is the stranger’s greeting. 

Quicke with it, Bacha. And the slave woman placed a 
rolled skin into the outstretched hand of the Princess. 

All in a flutter, the Princess flushed with an agitation. 
Read the script in breathless whispers. 

The Prince Governor of Cairo, Egypt doth send greetings 
unto the most fair Princess Roxana of the Royal House of 
Persia. The face of the Princess was flushed with delight, 
while the slave woman stood before her with keen desire 
leaping into her eyes. The Princess. All the anxious mo- 
ments of the days gone. Now broke into a happy resigna- 
tion and a compromise. Through the misty veil of tears her 


14 


A Princess of the Orient 


eyes shone with a happy light. ’Tis he! Slave go thou at 
once. Bear unto this stranger Knight who doth stand at 
the court gate, these greetings. The Princess doth bid him 
a welcome and doth await him. Here. 

The slave woman sped down the long halls of the palace 
on to greet the stranger and at the same moment the 
Princess returning into her bed chamber was attended by 
a slave woman who with great pride assisted the Princess 
to attire herself in a handsome traveling costume. As the 
Princess was donning this costume. Without in the marble 
halls of the outer palace several slaves struck off the head 
of a sheep and rolled it with the blood dripping across the 
brick-arched gate, before they permitted the stranger to 
enter within the inner gate of the court garden. 

The impatient guest stood awaiting his welcome. The 
slave woman spake these words, “the Princess doth bid thee 
welcome, she awaits thee — Enter!” Then she swung open 
the massive iron gate. And the stranger entered. 

Within the long halls of the Persian Palace. Slaves 
stood tireously swinging burning brass bowls of lipad. Sing- 
ing youths were reclining against the green and the scarlet 
walls. And the Prince Governor of Cairo was escorted into 
the palace of the Persian Shah. He entered with a restless 
step, his waiting impassioned by the desire to greet the 
lovely Princess. 

The effulgence of the mirrored walls and the rich drap- 
eries with the scent of the Atargul lingering everywhere, 
bore a welcome greeting to him. For he had traveled far 
and many days. 

Then. The graceful form of a woman swept into the 
chamber. It was she. The Princess Roxana. 

The Oriental Princess with a handsome face of Oriental 
cast. A full round face with a dark complexion and large 
brown eyes, bore the physique of the highest native face 
of what could mean, the face of the French woman but 
which was classed as a true Persian beauty. Her luxuriant 
black glossy hair was braided behind in two long tresses 
terminating in silken tassels of golden threads. Wearing 
a short jacket of crimson trimmed with gold lace of heavy 
pattern. Quite open in front. Having tight sleeves with 
many crystal buttons and a short skirt of great width held 
by a running string. And leggings of embroidered silk. 
Her kulajah or cloak she carried upon her arm and her 
blue velvet turban fashioned with gold fringe. She wore 


A Princess of the Orient 


IS 


well. She stood before her guest. She overwhelmed him 
with a delight. And the guest was most charmed with the 
elegance of the Princess. Theron, I bid thee a gracious 
welcome. Friend, thou art welcome, indeed! 

Most beautiful Princess, I am delighted to greet thee 
again. I pry thee call me not friend. Call me, in truth, 
thy lover. Ah! Princess a most gracious welcome unto thee. 

The Prince Governor fell upon his knee before the 
Princess, kissing her shapely hand with a fancy. 

While the Princess was flattered with his compliments. 

Theron. Arise. It is not fitly that thou shouldst kneel. 
The Prince Governor M. Theron. 

Then, my Princess, thou dost mistake. The whole of 
Egypt’s court is but a footstool for thy dainty footsteps. 
Thy gracious manners wouldst lead me firmly, my Princess. 
Thou art in goodly health? 

Before the Princess could answer the Prince Governor, 
he arose and fondly embraced her. They both turned to 
see Bacha entering into the chamber with the tea cart. 
And the Princess turned to serve the tea. As she daintily 
poured the tea and served it, the guest watched her closely. 
He noted the charm and grace of her manner, and he 
fastened his eyes upon her face. Sipping her tea. The 
Princess lifted her eyes to meet the open glance of his eyes, 
squarely. A slight flush overcome her for an instant, and 
she turned in a light conversation to him. Theron thou 
were late in thy coming? 

My beloved, the time seemed to hang long and heavy 
upon me. My duties in Cairo were many. And more were 
my longings for thee. More intense and fired I became 
to be with thee, to be near thee, my fair Princess. And 
now. Thank the gods of good fortune I have left all these 
behind me. I have escaped them and I have traveled fast 
towards Persia. As fast as my train of splendid horses 
could nobly bear me upon this journey of love. Ye gods! 
Long did measure the journey, but what matters it all now? 
For now, I stand in thy presence, at last. My love is it 
not in truth more than in fable that the gods glad this 
world of loving hearts with love’s deepest ardour? 

In truth Theron, responded the Princess. The gods of 
love do pink the otherwise grey and misty pathway of the 
trusting lover. Theron thou were long in thy coming, I 
trowth the gods waxed mad with my impatient longings for 
this glad hour. The hour of thy coming. The hours of 


16 A Princess of the Orient 

these passing days found play upon me as the sunshine 
doth sparkle and play upon the dark and sullen clouds in 
a blustering hour of the storms of wind. One hour. My 
heart was gladdened unto an ecstasy only to be followed by a 
melancholic fit. And this followed. By a secret joy which 
was the merest outgrowth of an elevation of my fancy. A 
secret joy, known only to the lover whose fond heart the 
gods and the goddesses have chained and inwreathed with 
whispering buds of sweet promises. The nymphs bespeak 
the Hour’s desires. The sentiment of the Graces. Behold I 
The gods and the goddesses are garlanded in kindred 
fashion within their realms. By love’s tender chords and 
nutured by love’s sweetest sentiments. Bounded hope 
adorned with raptured pleasures. 

The Princess shyly lowered her glance as the eyes of the 
Prince Governor were intently fastened upon her lovely 
face. 

My Princess, thou dost speak in the knowledge of a 
great warm love. Speak unto me, art thou bounded by 
these sweetest sentiments of rich love? 

Ah! Theron thou dost speak too much with an in- 
quiring mind. Alack! Knowst thou my bosom dost 
possess a human heart, and Theron. Thy coming. Indeed. 
Was long. In my waiting I did play fast with each day’s 
hours. That by chance this restless gloom might not settle 
in cloudy patches upon me. That I couldst palliate 
the idolatrous but dismal gloom that betook my whole be- 
ing. Upon one of these innumerable, anxious days of which 
I make mention, I attended the Atan. Alack! In truth, 
I sought warily for I failed in my search. These charming 
youths and maids could not attract me with any degree of 
enthusiasm. Neither. Were they able to please me with 
their dainty and figured dances, for they were vapid and 
dull to the utmost. And I wanted none of it. Upon one 
other day Theron, I fancied I could enjoy the men in their 
tilting. For thou dost well know the Persians do excel in 
this art. Alack, to me this scientific game was but a 
melee. Their laughter, their shouts were most harsh. How 
they repelled me! It was not. That. Which I sought. 
And I knew it. Upon one other day I clearly recall I 
followed the field sports. I trowth. I too became over 
fatigued. For. I returned into my palace weary, weary 
in heart and limb. And much disheartened was I. And, 
continued the Princess, this day! The one glad day of thy 


A Princess of the Orient 


17 


coming. I sought in the early hours of this morn to seek 
to indulge in hawking. 

As the Princess faltered, the Prince Governor noted the 
love of sport gleaming in her large eyes. And he smiled 
as he spake, in a light jest. The sport was capital then, 
my Princess? 

Thou dost indeed make merry sport of my hawking, 
Theron. Upon my faith thou dost mistake me much. Thy 
flighty whims. They charm me, as much as they do vary. 
Permit me I must speak they play well and it really must 
be extremely fascinating — this game of crossing each others 
shadows. For leagues and leagues, with tireless strides 
over the barren plains. 

Speakst as thou will, Theron. Me thinkst that if Sijan 
could have the human tongue to speak. He would, this 
very hour past sing praises of my goodly haunt within 
the jangals, this morning. 

And Sijan? Of whom thou dost speak, is he one of thy 
court companions? Rather. May I so speak is he a 
gallant lover? 

The merry laughter rippled from the lips of the Princess. 

Nay, Theron. Sijan is my petted tiger. And they both 
threw back their heads, laughing heartily. 

And Theron, how ravenously did Sijan devour the brawny 
hawk. I fetched for him. 

My Princess, thou art, indeed, one true child of Nature’s 
giddy whims. Ah! But thy giddy whims fascinate me. 
They saturate my very soul, until it doth cry for thee, my 
fair Princess. 

Theron. Not so. I am still a child. I may be passion- 
ately fond of sports, I do yield to my unbridled desires of 
this scientific sport, hawking. For it is a wonderful sport. 
Invigorating. Ah! Thou dost smile, that, is only bourne 
of the fact that thou hast never indulged in this most fas- 
cinating game. I know the game, Theron. I have tireously 
practised it habitually and not rawly. Too. My beloved 
thou dost remind me of the ruddy Sun. Chasing its own 
shadows in and out the wiley clouds far in the heavens. 

The Princess turned abruptly to her guest with a pained 
look. Theron. thou dost not taste of thy tea? 

Indeed my love, I have not alone tasted of it. Rather. 
I have drained the mug of its delicious contents. The tea 
was most delicious and refreshing and tea is the one bever- 
age upon which I depend for a soothing balm. 


18 


A Princess of the Orient 


Speaking thus, the Prince Governor placed the empty 
mug upon the tea cart which stood near him, and then he 
seated himself by the side of the Princess and upon a low 
gold bench. A bench of gold brocade. His eyes were 
intensely interesting to the Princess, as they were looking 
directly into her own eyes. And a tender light crept into 
her lovely eyes. A delicate smile made her coral lips soft 
with a ripeness as they parted in words. 

Theron dear! Thou art really. Really. Here within 
Persia and thou art seated by my side. 

Theron leaned closer to her and kissed her, laughingly. 
Again he kissed her. Then the Princess, her face a glow 
of happiness, placed her finger upon the lips of Theron. 

Now Theron. I fling all my dire anxieties to the coursing 
winds of the heavens. The wide heavens of the everywhere 
and may they bear my anxieties nowhere. Come, from the 
opening thou canst behold yon pillar. It is the great Pillar 
of the Sacred Star. 

And the Princess arising from her divan, took the hand 
of Theron and together. They walked the length of her 
long chamber, across to the wide mosaic glass window 
which had an outlook far in the distant surroundings. 
Anxiously the pair stood peering into the distance, for the 
outlines of the Sacred Star. 

My love, exclaimed he, my eyes behold it, distinctly. 
This Star standing so splendidly mounted upon the gigantic 
pillar. A strange spectacle. Is this. And most unfamiliar 
to me. What meaning doth the Persian Court put upon 
this great edifice? 

The Princess falling upon her knees in a reverence spake 
in most quiet whispers and with her eyes upon the floor 
beneath them. 

Theron thou art foreign to the Persian lands. Thou 
canst not understand. The Persian reverences this mag- 
nificent Star as a holy light divined upon him by the 
Saintly Gods. 

“Comth ye who bearth trouble!” 

The Persian casts his fears, his sorrows alike, upon this 
consecrated mount. And they are immediately consumed 
into greater blessings, for him. Behold! Our people in 
trouble. Kneeling in veiled sorrow at this Mount of the 
Pillar. Now. They do rise, they stand with their faces 
towards The Star. What a halo of happy light is upon 
their faces! At this moment the Princess arose and stood 


A Princess of the Orient 


19 


in this raptured vision. And the Prince Governor followed 
her eyes, but. Alack! His fixed eyes beheld naught but a 
distant mount bearing a fixed, regular star, which, dimly, 
distinct. And so distant that it meant only a faintly out- 
lined material object to him. And his glance was cold and 
senseless. 

My Princess, I prythee. I speak no offending sentiment. 
I have never met, neither have I at any time divulged in 
the Persian faith. It passeth my understanding. I per- 
mit it to remain sunken in the greater mind of the Persian. 
And now, my beloved, speak to me again, of thy self. And 
of the honourable Shah. Thy most noble parent and father. 
Doth the Shah not extend greetings unto the Prince Governor 
of Cairo? The Princess become covered in confusion as he 
spake the name of the Shah. He detected a visible shudder 
possessing her and likewise a disturbed light creeping into 
her eyes. And he did not understand her attitude. Could it 
be that his name struck terror in the heart of his child. 

Theron. The Shah, my father. He doth not know of 
thy coming into Persia. The Princess lowered her eyes 
upon the floor while a keen flash o’er spread the face of 
Theron at these spoken words which fell from the lips of the 
Princess as threats. 

The Shah doth not know my Princess? Asked Thereon in 
amazement. I have not spoken with my father of thy com- 
ing into his Province. I was familiar with his going out of 
the Province upon this time of the Calender and I hastened 
my timely missive to thee. Bidding thee here at this ap- 
pointed time. I deemed it most careful and wise. And 
Theron it is well that thou hast come upon this day. 

Theron stood amazed beyond words. He muttered in 
his throat, a something which sounded like these words. 
“Crossed again. The gods curses must follow upon me.” 

Then the next instant his voice was constrained when he 
spake aloud. Dost thou know, Princess Roxana I would 
never dared to have entered into the Shah’s palace with 
such an understanding. Ye gods! Princess Roxana, the 
Prince Governor of Cairo doth stand honour stricken. In 
such a misdemeanor of undignified act. 

Not so Theron. My missive was not as imprudent as 
thou wouldst judge it to be. I more than any person in 
the whole of Persia and elsewhere, am able to appreciate 
the Shah’s whims, his fancies as well as his disciplines. 
Both the most kind and the most severe. And should I not? 


20 


A Princess of the Orient 


Being daughter to him, a close companion in the houri 
of the many days, the countless days of our lives, our com- 
panionship? I beg of thee Theron, it is more prudent that 
I leave Persia in the absence of my father than any other 
time. While he is still within foreign quarters. 

Now it was perceptible to the princess that a cloud of 
fear was overshadowing the great mist of bright pleasure 
which had wrapped Theron only the moment past. But 
she continued as if to convince Theron that she had acted 
wisely and with discretion. That his fears were groundless. 
His wrath, continued she, the wrath of the Persian Shah! 
To meet the demand of his furies. I marvel that I so 
dare to offend the mind of the Shah in a measure, even 
small or tend to a measure of offense. I trowth it is a great 
surging power within me. The mighty power of love sweep- 
ing over my Soul which has garnished my act. I do not 
regret my doing so. Theron I feign wouldst behold thee in 
a melancholy than in this evident tremble. Come disregard 
thy unrest. It is not mete that thy coming into Persia 
shouldst find a shadow in its welcome. 

Princess I have greatly offended the high honour and the 
strict dignity of Egypt in so coming here in this secret 
trail. Liken a crafty huntsman. 

Theron mistake not this deed. Thinkst thou I mayst not 
go about like a free country woman? The mighty and 
powerful Shah, my dearly cherished father, I love him much. 
But. The Shah noble as he remains he shall. Know well, 
when the hour is tardyly late. That his iron laws by which 
he measures the personal liberties of his daughter were 
shaped by his parental authority, can be broken by the 
rights of a willful daughter. It was my own father. He 
who taught me in childish rhymes in the nursery borders 
this mindful motto. “The Persians are contente with dis- 
cord, we are contente with alarms, we are contente with 
blood, but we will never be contente with a Master.” 

A likely fire blazed from the independent glance of the 
Princess’s dark eyes as she spake in this defiant mood or 
challenge. And Theron stood silent in serious thought. 
A forceful idea burst upon him. The idea of any oppres- 
sion of the most limited degree was now clearly realized by 
him. As it was measured by the Princess and the untam- 
able spirit of her. This idea stood before his mind moulded 
in form. And nevertheless. Upon this moment, a greater 
understanding had fallen upon them, both — though silent. 


A Princess of the Orient 


21 


The Prince Governor loved this amorous Princess with a 
bestial fancy. The Princess loved the Prince Governor 
with a violent and passionate love. He realized how much 
the effort was demanding of the Princess, to gain, and in 
keeping their close friendship. 

After a momentary silence he addressed her, most gently. 
My Princess, thou are indeed, content to go away from the 
Shah, thy cherished father? From thy palace. From thy 
people. All? And thou do enter willingly, into a strange 
land with me? And with naught else? 

So strange a hold did this passion of her love take of the 
Princess, that she scarcely spake aloud. However the ready 
ear of Theron was inclined to her words. 

Theron, countless times. I am not content, nay I am 
overwhelmed with the newest and the richest joy of my life. 
My heart is gladdened as I never were wont to believe it 
could be. Then, she faltered in her words as if to tear away 
some hidden secret which though concealed, chided her care- 
less words. 

The Prince Governor mistook her attitude. She was 
beautiful, this dark Princess. Pink blushes glowing upon 
her cheeks, the light of love in her eyes. And he clasped 
her fondly in his arms with a glad pride, with a delightful 
joy. 

My beloved, come! Now as thou art in all readiness to 
go with me. Let us away. Away, ere the Shah doth return, 
for each moment doth fetch thy father nearer. Back into 
his own Province. 

And the secret thoughts of his mind were decisive. It 
must be accomplished through and by the parental love. 

Little did the Princess know this thought in the mind of 
her lover was lurking behind some base scheme. 

Theron clasped the mantle about the shoulders of the 
Princess. Then, it was he turned squarely around as if to 
permit the last look from the Princess upon her palace 
chamber to belong wholly to her. While she stood in a silent 
meditation, as if it were with a farewell glance, lingering 
upon each and every object dear unto her heart, binding 
her to cherished memories so dear. She calmly gathered 
up a rolled script skin. And then, with a hasty readiness, 
almost an impatience, she turned to him, extending her 
gloved hand. 

Theron smilingly took her hand and they passed without 
her chamber, into an outer hall of the magnificent Persian 


22 


A Princess of the Orient 


palace. Slaves fell upon their faces as the pair went with- 
out the halls. Singing youths softly chanted their tender 
verses until the jeweled doors closed upon the pair. The 
sound of the heavy door as it locked made such a distinct 
effect upon the Princess that she hurriedly walked on. Not 
daring to look behind her to note the beautiful, dull lights 
of the handsome art lanterns still lighted in the courts. 
When they had passed without the brick arched gate, the 
slaves builded a small red fire in the stove urn. That which 
the Princess knew would be done, to assure her, the warm 
glow of welcome awaited her return into her palatial home. 
When her fancies led her back into her old home again. Out 
upon the roadway, which led out from the court gardens, 
the pair walked a short distance, whereupon they came to 
another, a longer roadway, where stood the great train of 
horses and ready attendants, in obedient servitude. One 
splendid white animal bearing the skins of the leopard 
stood in a spirited mood. Stamping and moving in restless 
steps. Upon the approach of the pair, there were two 
attendants who stepped forward and lifted the Princess 
upon this animal. This was the favoured horse of the 
Prince Governor. It had been bridled and led upon this 
journey by the attendants for the Princess to ride back into 
Egypt. And so, the Prince Governor of Egypt with the 
Princess of Persia, followed by a train of slaves began 
their journey across the country. Upon the roadway be- 
yond the palatial gardens they distinctly heard the clear 
tones of the quaint music gongs, struck by the slaves, who 
had followed them just within the garden walls as far as 
the garden extended along this roadway. And. The last 
tones, even unto the silent echoes bore a settled conviction 
upon the heart of the Princess. And a tear glistened upon 
her cheek. Then out of the silence, this awful silence. They 
were thrilled by the melodious notes of a song bird. They 
stopped in their train. * They remained enthralled, they 
beheld through the conventional wooded hedge along this 
roadway, a purple bird fluttered over an upturned full blown 
rose. This bird buried its scarlet bill into the lovely red 
rose, then lifting its little head in graceful pose, sang joyously 
in a pensive sweetness and with a clearness, its song of 
ardour. What was its song? Only lovers could understand. 
This tale of this love bird unto the blushing rose. Softly. 
The last silvery note of the bird floated upon the ears of 
the two lovers, as they listened in their sweetest delight. 


A Princess of the Orient 


23 


Theron then, lifted his turban and sat with bowed head 
in the presence of the Pligh Princess. And she sat with 
her head drooped and with lowered eyes. These two lovers 
sunken in this rapturous pleasure. One of fancy, one of love 
slowly began their long journey, held by the symphony of 
The Sultana of The Nightingale. 

Its carol chidth not the loving heart of the Princess, with 
her deep oriental love. It carolled more love into her warm 
Soul like a jeweled sunbeam. And. Unto the Prince Gov- 
ernor, the carol of this Sultana of the Nightingale. It sunk 
in pretended love, fashioned into a devotion. Liken a 
careless smile upon the ready lips of one who tastes of the 
garnished loving cup of fancy pleasures. 

CHAPTER II. 

THE KING OF EGYPT. 

The King of Egypt stood a mighty ruler before the 
Egyptian people. In the fair city of Cairo, the metropolis 
of Egypt, this King stood though majestic in his rule over 
and with the Egyptian people a suppliant ruler before his 
guardian Deity, Ra. The much famed and worshipped Sun- 
god. 

Upon a certain day, like one humble petitioner even of 
the common of Cairo, the King swung the bronze bowled 
censer which was fashioned liken an open hand holding the 
bowl of this bronze censer. The other end holding the 
pastile of oriental incense, was designed of the hawk’s head 
crowned with a disk. And this was the censer which the 
King of these great people held and swung, pouring a 
libation of wine. On one side and offering incense on the 
other. The King was serving his devotion before and 
unto the Sun-god upon this day and hour. He stood as was 
the custom of the Egyptian, uttering his petitions in medi- 
tations and in whispers. None, there was who could know 
what his phrases contained. Neither could his low words be 
understood. 

Just as the misty vapors of the smothering burning gub- 
resin nearly evaporated, the King turned from the god, Ra. 
And with reverent, with measured steps he departed from 
this great temple of Ra. 

He was followed in close service by attendants who 
escorted him into the palace hall. And then, they passed on 
into one court chapel far to another side of the large hall. 

The King now seated himself upon a throne of greatest 
magnificent splendour. The wonderful and masterful 


24 


A Princess of the Orient 


statute of art, called the Peacock Throne. And the very 
misty light of the oriental sun, that which had been ad- 
mitted very narrowly from the distant, though distinctly 
near Eastern skies, into this vast hall, transformed this 
famed, and this most splendid throne into a bower of twi- 
light and into a glorious realm of glittering gems. How 
magnificent! In a contrasting defiant streak of the rubiac 
sun boldly peering into this hall, the jeweled peacock which 
was fashioned upon two huge marble pillars overstanding 
this throne, held immense clear-stoned rubies in their beaks. 

These peacocks in striving rivalry one with the other, 
were circled together overhead by an exquisite ornament of 
precious stones, each holding a huge cluster of perfectly cut 
brilliants. Perchance the white Egyptian topaz. The art 
of this oriental luxuriance of this extravagant Peacock 
throne, immerging into such extravagance, commanded the 
highest admiration from every eye which by chance fell 
upon it. The King admired it greatly. The slaves wor- 
shipped it. The people raved over it while great masters 
enjoyed it. 

The King his air was majestic as he so silently sat upon 
this jeweled throne and meditated. In truth, he was much 
alone with his own thoughts. His purple velvet robe and 
scarlet mantle made him handsome, but for the degree of 
severity that which was stamped upon his strong face. He 
lifted his eyes from the ivoijy writing plaque which was so 
enriched by inlaid lapis-lazuli, and the gleam that which 
was in his blue grey eye. Was it a strange reflection from 
the dull colored glass in the antique ivory writing plaque 
or was it the light of one man’s power? For the ambition 
of the King was of the greatest. To the Egyptians, his 
people. This King was the most eager patriot, who carried 
into his daily life the heat of unbridled passion. That he 
might rule with the hand of Justice and that he might serve 
his people with a glorious pride. And the people. They 
believed him to be great and splendid in his stately career 
and courageous with a constancy of purpose that was flex- 
ible to highest duty. And thus. This King sat before his 
people with a mighty dignity and ruling with a mightier 
hand. And he was beloved by all the people of Egyptian 
lands. 

Upon this moment the King turned in his heavy fauteuil 
for. A gentle, soft voice aroused him and as he turned, he 
beheld Lady Vivian standing before him. A beautiful girl 


A Princess of the Orient 


25 


in dainty, sweet loveliness and, with a graceful smile. 

Father greetings unto thee, sweetly fell from her lips as 
she bent over the King and kissed him fondly upon either 
cheek. 

Greetings, daughter mine, exclaimed the King with a 
proud ring in his voice. 

The girl seated herself upon the arm of the King’s high 
fauteuil. He caressed her with endearing words and kissed 
her upon her rounded rosy cheeks. 

How is it with thee daughter mine, asked the King with 
the fond light of a parent upon his face. 

This day thou are in goodly health, for mine eyes they 
do not play me false. 

Yea. Father mine, I feel very happy as I am in excellent 
health. And thyself, father art thou not in goodly spirits 
this bright cheery day? The girl responded with a radiant 
countenance. 

Ah! My child my health is excellent. The day is bright 
without, my heart and mind is young within to-day. But. 
Methinks the day is not one whit brighter than those two 
pretty eyes of thine. And thy tresses of the raven’s hue 
liken threads of finest silk. Daughter mine the eye of 
a father is quicke. How much thou dost bear, an elegant re- 
semblance unto thy dear mother. And, continued the King 
as Lady Vivian stole her arms about the King, thou art thy 
mother’s own true picture. How long, how long! Yet it doth 
seem but in the retreating shadows of yesterday’s nightfall 
that I embraced thy mother within these arms. In sweetest 
embrace. Daughter mine! 

He faltered with a sigh, then, with a gentle smile upon his 
broad lips. The King stroked her long braids of blacken hair, 
not once but many times. 

Father I do so love to hear thy pretty praises. Thy com- 
pliments do please me much. I am overwhelming pleased 
that thou dost fancy mine eyes, mine hair. Be what colour 
it may. How proudly I know that I find favour with thee. 
Blessed indeed am I. For, there is not one maiden in Egypt 
who doth possess such a rare gift of love as I. 

She reclined herself upon the King’s knee and he bent over 
the drooping head of his loving daughter. He was bent in 
thought or memories of long ago. And quite so was he 
charmed with a full measure of content. As they sat thus. 
The much famed King, of Eg5q)t with the lovely Lady Vi- 


26 


A Princess of the Orient 


vian, his daughter, they remained a charming picture of de- 
votion. 

, After a silent moment. A moment of the esprit, Of the 
souled devotion of the parent with the daughter, she lifted 
her drooping head and very softly she spake. Her words fall- 
ing scarcely upon the ready ear of her father. So gentle, so 
sweetly low were they. Father mine, thou art unjustly 
called the cruel King of Egypt. I call thee noble, magnifi- 
cent. 

Ah, but my child. Thou indeed dost flatter thy old father. 
And be it rightly so, for thou art of my blood and it is thus, 
thou art able to speak. Alack! The people, they do not 
measure their King with bonds of kinship sentiments. 
Neither. With a measure of honoured love. But come. Of 
thyself. Daughter art thou quite content here, within the 
courtly palace? Thou art now, without thy mother’s loving 
care and sweet companionship. In a poor attempt to supply 
thy great need, I have surrounded thee with every luxury of 
the Court of Egypt. Alack, daughter. I have oft times found 
it so. That luxuries do not fetch the longing of a languid 
life. And I trowth, I fear it doubly for thine is a young life. 
Unfettered by cares, by hardships. And ever shall it be so. 
If thy father’s hand be able to protect thee and. Always may 
thee be binded by luxuries. Whenst thou find lonely hours. 
Come daughter mine so dear. Come for thy father ever 
wants thee, his arms are ever ready to embrace thee. 

And daughter givth thy ear. There must be no secret 
smouldering between thee and me. Never a hidden secret. 
Therefrom doth spring much sorrow. Always. 

Nay father mine. There shall be no secret between thee 
and me. Thou dost indeed know my life is open before thee. 
My studies, my philanthropic work in the settlement and my 
life here within the Court. 

And Lady Vivian fondly stroked the hand of the King. 
The hand that he raised to caress her rosy cheeks. 

Have a care, little one. There mayst be a lover! Some- 
where lurking near. For always in the shadows of youth 
there doth lurk Cupid’s heralder. 

Lady Vivian had not wished to act in a fraudful, neither a 
hyprocritical manner with her father. However. There was 
a sense of deep deception before her. But, had she really de- 
ceived her father? 

During the past moments the keen eyes of her father de- 
tected a secret close at open range. Because there was a 


' A Princess of the Orient 


27 


confusion covering her face. There was the tell-tale blush 
tinging her cheeks. 

•So there is one, daughter mine? As the King spake his 
confusion quickly bent a scarlet flush upon his face. A stern 
light in his eye. » 

Daughter, thy heart and hand so free, must be for a noble 
gentleman. A truly great man and one of the Royal House. 

The King’s eyes scrutinized her face as the Lady Vivian 
wrestled with her confused thoughts. 

She sought to speak. Then. At last she remained silently 
dumb. 

'Daughter mine, givth me thy ear. I have a father’s fond- 
ness for thee and this fondness has severely awakened me 
unto keen inquiries. Perchance they may be counted bold. 

And. Thou dost possess the great warm nature of thy 
mother. Only. Thou hast the fresher charm of simplicity. 
T<hou wilt seek love for thou art but now coming into the 
spring of life. And in faith, I wouldst have it no other way. 
Were the gods themselves to alter it. In the pink spring-time 
of life, love always cultures. There mayst be a language. 
Somewhere. In this grand old universe, that which has crys- 
talized a true version of definition of youth’s gift of ardor. 
Alack! the sooth-sayers alone have clearly versified the ex- 
pression infinitely correct in their scribing. The real master 
passion after all in life is. Love. I do no more violence unto 
my parental instinct for verily do I believe that gracefully. 
And. With thy loveliness of a dutiful daughter. Thou shalt 
esteem thy goodly graces in the wisdom of thy father. 

Liken the echoes falling from the striking of a solemn 
vesper-bell refrain. The pathetic tones of hope fell upon the 
Lady Vivian. With a mighty bearing conviction. And before 
the King could continue, he beheld the form of his daughter. 
Abruptly withdrawn from his own arms. She had slyly 
slipped from the court chapel and upon reaching the large 
doors leading out into another court. She faltered. She 
glanced backward upon the astonished King as he sat. His 
body pitched forward, his empty arms outstretched. 

And the King. A tremulous opal haze settled upon him. 
His thoughts were being melted into queer dreams. Fearful 
dreams. And the magnificent peacock throne. This wonder- 
ful artistic work, its gems glittering in open brilliancy. Its 
lines of gold stood proudly in bold designs. Even. The veiled 
Sun dared to cast off her mauve veil and shine in her rightful 
glow. 


28 


A Princess of the Orient 


And the King sat in dismal apprehension. 

Lady Vivian felt the shame of the checkered veil of deceit. 
Mantling her countenance. She felt more. That she alone, 
-was mantled within the plastic folds of inelegant deceit. 
Would the Daw of the field. Would the Ibis of the court 
knight her? 

All. Everything. Everybody seemed to stand in a per- 
fect. An open gaze before her fawning self! 

But. With it all. She would not compromise the secret 
delight of her own heart. Then like faveolate tracings. Her 
thoughts shaped into sweetest dreams. And she entered into 
the court gardens. 

CHAPTER HI. 

M. Theron Prince Governor of Cairo. 

The Evil is null, is naught, is silence implying Sound: 

What was good shall be good, with for Evil so much, good 
more. 

On earth the broken arcs, in the Heavens a perfect round. 

— Browning’s “Abt Vogler.” 

M. Theron was the Prince Governor of Cairo and he had 
served as a very popular man in Cairo, Egypt. However. The 
evident situation at the present time, was that his power of 
influence. With his people seemed to be wanning and an un- 
disguised unrest was gripping them. 

M. Theron as newly made Prince. Governor, in beginning 
his government. He met and held his people with a strength 
of influence. That which lay wholly in his enthusiastic and 
his fiery imaginative motives. He employed no methods pro- 
moting great profound ideas for a stronger government. Not 
one of his advanced theories held clear. Abstract thought for 
reform. Neither. Of uplift of his people. The thinking peo- 
ple of Cairo conceded that there were not any well grounded 
theories in his system of governing the city of Cairo. Upon 
which any marked degree of exact sense of reasoning depend- 
ed. He seemed not inclined to exercise any newer theories 
that which would actuate a movement towards lines of the 
betterment of the conditions of the present time. The pres- 
ent government of Cairo had been placed in the hands. 
Within the power of a most incompetent official. It was 
commonly announced that their city was standing divided 
and it was upon the threshold of a strong reformation. The 
dignity of Cairo was waxed in corruption. 

The character of M. Theron was not all. Too notorious. 
For all that. He possessed many admirable qualities of char- 


A Princess of the Orient 


29 


acter. He was very versatile, cheery and pleasure loving. 
However. The extravagance of his court, the imposing posi- 
/ tion, that which he held in Cairo, which gave opportunity 
for the development of a moral corruption. Was so great 
that the natural sequence burst upon the people. That of a 
stirring violence with and among the Egyptian people of 
Cairo. 

Greater. Strong citizens of Cairo frowned upon M. Theiron 
as he spent his nights most frequently in festive enjoyments. 
And quite so frequently. Was he to be seen at the lesser en- 
tertainments of the city. He was quoted as being absent 
from his office chapel, thus, imposing all, too important du- 
ties upon his deputies and upon his council. He would attend 
the chariot races almost daily and could be found. All. Too 
frequently reveling in the public square and drinking in the 
public coffee-houses. Mingling with the lower clan of the 
town folk. Being friendly to their amusements and partaking 
of their so-called. Friendly cup. 

Now at this present time. A great moral wave was ab^ut 
to sweep over Cairo. The people were thrilled with this new 
intoxication. The untiring efforts of this great band of re- 
formers succeeded in exposing. Enfin. The Prince Governor 
M. Theron. Widely and boldly. 

So much of the great social vice that which had swept 
down like a blue blanket and that which was gripping the 
people. Had been found in a beginning. In the Concubine 
Temple. A Temple nearly within the heart of the city. 
Within a stone’s throw of the government’s buildings. And it 
stood flourishing in all vice and obstrusive wickedness. This 
temple of not such an immense structure. Was richly dec- 
orated and it lent an attraction. To many. It was too. 
Granted to be the greatest stain that had ever fallen upon 
Cairo. And. It stood inviting and snaring the young, the in- 
experience. Likewise being maintained and indulged by the 
corrupt of Cairo. Without any doubt. But to the direct cjon- 
trary. M. Theron had been instrumental in establishing and 
was maintaining supposedly. Secretly. This concubine tem- 
ple. This, the one greater living shadow now falling in black- 
est shadows upon the whole city. This gaming house sto^od 
flourishing in open defiance to the law. In all lawlessness. 
Yea. There was an ordinance. Too. There was a law pro- 
hibiting the operation of such a house. However. Tp have it 
abolished, the greatest efforts proved in vain. Useless. All 
the technicalities of the law, all the closest rites of their or- 


30 


A Princess of the Orient 


dinances were employed without success. The people now. 
Were so wrpught up over the loose system of government of 
M. Theron, and were enraged over the existent conditions. 
Nevertheless. Investigation and all measures of the reform- 
ers immediately met rebound of one stroke of the Prince- 
Governor’s Council and its by-laws. Until. It seemed that 
this most systematic immorality reigned and would continue 
to bind Cairo within the shadows of degradation. The strong- 
est citizens were repeating one unto the other. The Prince- 
Governor encourages all these corrupt measures. Not alone. 
By silent consent but by example. Spme people despaired be- 
lieving their city to be falling into a fast decline. While 
others. Whose honour and dignity had been wounded and 
fired by disasterous corruption, pushed forward with a zeal 
marked with determination. Which meant something. Meet- 
ings were called by the pepple principally represented by the 
reformers and a committee of eight men were finally commis- 
sioned to present and to plead a petition for a reformation. In 
a hearing before the Prince Governor and his Council. How- 
ever. This meeting pnoved one other failure. It was begin- 
ning to be understood by the common, that the Prince Gov- 
ernor had in so employing mean bribes. He had put bridles 
of obligation upon them to make up any scheme whereby he 
and not the commpn could be benefited. That he confiscated 
all unused lands belonging to private holders which lands lay 
within certain districts and used them for such commerces as 
the silken industries. The fisheries. The rose-fields and such 
industries known in Cairo. And he pressed the private hold^er 
down with but a meager allowance annually. Which was a 
mere livelihood. Nothing more. 

The outrage was exercised supposedly. Legally. And it 
had been done so long that when the reformers sought to en- 
lighten the people to the invalidity of such laws and if such 
laws. The injustice of them. The people sof the common 
stood helpless at first. But. Soon the spirit of this injustice 
bore upon them. They stood at last ready to strike. And in 
this stroke for justice, both the poor and the rich clans stood 
side by side. Eager to strike the Prince Governor who with 
such extravagant schemes as he had put forth only to involv- 
ing them to their own disadvantage. And as surely measured 
them scantily and underminded their rights as citizens of 
Cairo. 

The cpmmittee of reformers moved systematically. First. 


A Princess of the Orient 


31 


To be the subject of satire and coarse ridicule. Then. Slowly 
truly unto their reform. 

The strength of their measures and the steady advancing 
of their principles soon gained them burning followers. And 
the revolting power was at last moving Cairo. The Prince 
Governor with his council well knew and rightly felt the 
shadowy result. A meeting was called of the council. The 
sense of this meeting was to set about to establish a consti- 
tution of such called by-laws. In truth. An amendment to 
bills already passed and heretofore enforced. But. These 
..bills w:ere to become enforced laws at all times. Only, 
wherein the Prince Governor’s council were to pass its friend- 
ly consent. This desperate chance had been challenged by 
the approaching revolt. 

Under the management of the Prince Governor. His coun- 
cil skillfully took framed measures. Firstly. In blind sham 
of securing the acquiescence of the p^olitical machine, the ma- 
chine upon which hung all political strokes. The first stroke 
of the machine was to complete a partition of the District 
Boulak from Cairo. Thus barring this district from any vot- 
ing power up“on the city of Cairo. The district, large in itself 
wished to be incorperated into a city, with its own govern- 
ment, laws and rights. And so. The Prince Governor set it 
apart, incorporating and making it a city of its own. The 
council voted even to endow this new city with ’one tract of 
unused fields. Whereby. It could open its own commerce in 
the silken industry. 

This western district was called Boulak. Whereupon. The 
reformers had gained their followers. Having gained a com- 
plete partition of this western district. The Prince Governor 
then recognized a great danger in the one other district neigh- 
boring Boulak. Which was fired to revolt, likewise. This dis- 
trict lying on the outskirts of Cairo was fast growing and de- 
veloping into a valuable center. Now, it was feared, this dis- 
trict would unite itself with the District Boulak. That dis- 
trict which the council had just partitioned from Cairo. Be 
it understood they were both in sympathy with the reformers. 
The Council directed a meeting. And in this meeting, this 
growing little center was annexed to Cairo. 

Sh that which had been known as Duran, with its tall bar- 
ren Cliffs and bounded by an ocean of sand. Was now to be 
called Western Cairo. Coming entirely under the full juris- 
diction of the Machine of the City’s government. Under the 
furtherance of this new stroke for these were the most dan- 


32 


A Princess of the Orient 


gerous as well as the most valuable centers. The Prince Gov- 
ernor hoped to hold his old dominate power. To regain his 
former influence. 

And thus be strengthened to meet the reformation squarely 
with defeat. And to allay this surging revolt. 

It seemed most probable. 

CHAPTER IV. 

The King’s Hearing. 

Lady Vivian, beautiful Mistress. Whist! Hearst thou 
your ladyship? The King. Thy father doth approach from 
without the Chapel. 

From the magnificent round gallery surrounding the 
court’s chapel, the Lady Vivian, daughter to the King, at- 
tended by two slaves anxiously awaited the King’s hearing. 
She sat within the gallery of the chapel. 

Upon a very early hour of this day. Lady Vivian lay revel- 
ing in dreams with Aurora. She languidly watched the play 
of the birds in the pools of sparkling waters within the open 
court just below her bed-chamber. 

The effulgence of the oriental sun thrilled her with its 
growing splendeur. A black slave cautiously struck the silver 
gong which was just without her bed-chamber door. And she 
was aroused abruptly from her dreams. 

Slave what wiouldst thou with Lady Vivian? 

Lady Vivian, your ladyship I come with a herald for thee, 
responded the husky voice of the slave. 

Be quicke. Slave what is it? Speaking so, she hastily sped 
across her chamber, standing with her ear pressed hard at the 
slight jar of the jeweled doors. 

Your ladyship, the stranger. It is of he I wouldst speak. 

Yea, the stranger. And what of the stranger, slave. What 
of this youth? 

Oh, your ladyship, he has been summoned into the court 
chapel to appear before the King. 

Speakst thou, the stranger is to appear before the King, 
slave? 

It is in truth, this, that I come to bear unto thee. Lady 
Vivian. 

At what hour doth this stranger youth appear before the 
King in this hearing? 

Within the hour, your ladyship, wildly exclaimed the 
slave. 

Merciful gods! This untimely hour, ejaculated the Lady 
Vivian. 


A Princess of the Orient 


33 


Slave thou mayst go immediately, responded she to the 
slave who was standing without the chamber door. Whereup- 
on. This slave left his place at the chamber door and sped 
down the hall. 

Lady Vivian stood erect. Her face was palid. Then a red- 
den colour flushed her face. She clenched her hands in the 
determination to be brave enough, not to censor the King. 
Then she turned hastily to her slave who stood waiting to 
serve her. 

Trua, my slave hasten. My morning robe. 

The slave woman with clever fingers arranged the heavy 
blacken hair of the Lady Vivian into long braids, which glist- 
ened in two wonderful braids hanging down her back. Then 
with the greatest pride arranged the rose tinted robe grace- 
fully around her slender form. Girdling it with a silver 
metaled belt. She wore no ornaments but an exquisite chase 
gold smelling case. Its top being set in rubies. She drank 
hastily of the tea which the slave served her. The tea was de- 
licious and she relished it much. 

She arose and as she left her chamber. Trua stood behind 
her with her eyes fastened up*on her Mistress with greatest 
pride. And in low murmurs she spoke. My mistress is beau- 
tiful. 

Lady Vivian ascended the broad, the richly carpeted stair- 
way leading into an upper balcony of the court chapel. And 
there she seated herself. Selecting a bench which was seclud- 
ed from the view of the King and his courtiers. 

Immediately the King entered into the chapel. Escorted 
by attendants in his train. And before him walked one cour- 
tier bearing the jeweled cross upon a golden-box. 

Very great dignity marked the entrance of the King. And 
this great King sat with a majestic air, in his court fauteuil. 

With royal courtesy the courtiers kissed the hem of the 
King’s mantle. 

Lady Vivian reclining upon the unique ivory bench within 
the upper balcony remained quite motionless. The burning 
of the incense and the soft muffled gong struck by the black 
.slaves. It bore a secret hope for Lady Vivian. Her face was 
now rosy with freshness. Her inmost thoughts were immerg- 
ing into most tender sentiments. Alack! Instantly her de- 
lights become faint. Lo! the harsh, the jarring tones of the 
King fell upon her. She leaned forward, she listened with 
abated breath. She thought to stand. To run to the King. 


34 


A Princess of the Orient 


But. She knew this would be faux-pas. And she moved back- 
ward upon the bench again. 

Fetch the prisoner before me. — these were the words of 
the King. 

She startled only to remain quiet once more. 

Two courtiers entered into the chapel. They bore between 
them the prisoner. 

A daring youth was this stranger. He entered clad in a 
loose brown coat of coarse woolen stuff which was covered 
with the dusts of saffron. He walked with a firm step. With 
his head upturned and in his eyes there gleamed boldest defi- 
ance. Which meant perchance. Treachery. But he wore a 
dignity with it all. He wore a challenge, a contemptuous 
challenge. 

Tall in stature broad shouldered with an intelligent face, 
his searching kindest black eyes were arrested by every ob- 
ject in the strange chapel. His dark clustery hair was care- 
lessly thrown back revealing his full forehead. He was led be- 
fore the King. And in his poise of elegant dignity. The King 
admired the youth, much. But. The King sought to conceal 
this admiration with a severe countenance. 

The prisoner greeted the King ceremoniously and st'ood be- 
fore him not a mute suppliant. Rather. A person with in- 
jured dignity. 

The King’s keen eyes were fastened upon the proud face of 
the youth and he marveled greatly, secretly at this youth’s 
fearless attitude. At his inborn sang-froid. With keen 
scrutiny the King turned and spake with his courtiers. 

Thou hast fetched the youth before me, at my command. 
What hast thou of his crime? 

O King, your Highness! This stranger has been confined 
within the dungeon these many weeks. Awaiting thy hearing. 

Yea! Yea! Be it so. Within the far dungeon as were the 
orders of the King. What of the charges against the youth? 
Continued the King. 

As the King finished these words the prisoner turned. He 
I'ooked upon the courtiers. Fastening his gaze upon the face 
of the courtier who addressed himself unto the King. And 
the youth inclined his ear also. 

Your Highness, the boatmen in their canoes, were spearing 
in the marshes for the hippopotamus. Your Highness they 
were suddenly aroused by the road of rushing water nearby. 
In their alarm. They turned they beheld the violent danger 
upon them. For it was the Zobaah upon the Nile. 


A Princess of the Orient 


35 


They beheld a crew of our slaves directly within the path 
of the whirling water and the boatmen rushed to their rescue. 
It was a terrifying picture, your Highness. The angry waters 
they heaved, they twisted and they hurled. The crew of 
slaves worked hard and fast. But. Alas! They would have 
been lost had not our boatmen reached them, just at the 
most opportune moment. Together they wrestled with the 
stormy waters. Until enfin. The maddened struggle seemed 
to be over. They steered the boats out of the path of the 
mad current and they pulled them back safely upon the 
shores of the Nile. The boatmen rebuked the slaves for their 
untimely dare-devil trick of playing in the course of the 
Zobaah. 

To their amazement they found a stranger. This youth. 
Your Highness in their midst. He lay insensible, exhausted 
and was drenched and dripping. Our slaves answered the re- 
bukes of the boatmen. They spake thus, your Highness. 

We were in our canoes upon the Nile. The waters were 
beautiful with their usual calmness. When suddenly they be- 
came alarmed by hearing the storm-bell, tolling from the 
tower. And. Then almost instantly the roar of the Zobaah 
was upon them. They turned their canoes and they hastened 
to return to the shores. However. They were drawn by a 
most sudden streak of vivid lightning from the. skies. The 
streak of light directed itself unto the youth who lay in his 
boat helpless. 

Tour Highness it was sent by the gods! 

Fie ! What baffling words ! What dramatic tale doth thou 
bear upon thy lips, before the King? 

O your Majesty. The day was perfect, the courtiers have 
just related it so. The heavens were clear with its azure 
colour. The sun was proud in its bright glory. 

What infamous tale! Who among thee, my courtiers may 
believe thy King can credit such slander upon the gfods? 

Your Royal Highness the slaves have spoken. They do re- 
late the tale unto us. From their canoes they all bore witness 
to this streak of lightning bursting from the clear skies! and 
they believed themselves called by an infinitive power to save 
this stranger. 

And Your Highness their convictions were up/on them. 
They ventured into the pathway of the Zobaah in due time to 
find the youth quite exhausted and lying within his canoe. 
Battling for his life. And it did seem that the stranger would 
be lost. 


36 


A Princess of the Orient 


Truly spoken Your Highness, spake another courtier. 

Even so, proceed Calies. What of the slaves and the 
youth, asked the King. 

Your Highness continued Calies the slaves carried this 
youth from their boat, then into the palace garden chapel. 

What speakst thou, exclaimed the King in agitated voice. 

And the King leaned forward in his fauteuil, his counter- 
nance flushed with anger. 

A stranger. And notably of the common. Thou hast dared 
to shelter such a person within the court garden chapel? Ye 
gods! ’Tis working recklessly with thy King’s wishes. 

Your Highness, the slave boatmen were so commanded by 
Lady Vivian. 

At the mention of Lady Vivian’s name the courtiers bowed 
ceremonously and the stranger reddened with a startle. Then 
a pallor o’er spread his face and he looked upon the face of 
the King with a compassion. 

Alack! He found no compassion. No mercy in the eyes of 
the King. For the King was quite overcome with impatience- 

Upon this critical moment Lady Vivian upon her bench 
within the balcony moved uneasily. She wished to go before 
the King that she might implore him. But. She remained 
motionless. Suddenly. These rigor words of the King, fell 
upon her. 

Youth thou most bold. Thou mayst deliver thyself from 
hard imprisonment by thine own mouth. Speakst thou. Re- 
callst thou and measure well thy words. Have a care for 
hearst thou from all the Egyptian people without and within. 
Everyplace. The King of Eg5q)t doth rule with a mighty 
hand. It is a chance, thou mayst deliver thyself. Speak! 

And the King leaned back firmly against his fauteuil. With 
compressed lips, with keen glance he gave his ear unto the 
prisoner. 

The youth’s eyes dwelt long upon the King’s face. Then. 
He began his tale. 

O King, Your Excellency. Thou art indeed a King of a 
great nation. Thou art a ruler firm. Yet just and with this 
knowledge. I speak not with a measured caution. Rather, 
With an open truth. I am. Your Excellency, as thou hast di- 
vined a stranger in thy fair city. One stranger among thy 
pe,ODle. A captive within the court prison. 

Thou art a spy, spake Calies, Thou didst steal, into Cairo 
like a magician. By what right, I prythee, didst thou conjure 
the King’s slaves and the King’s boatmen that they might 


A Princess of the Orient 


37 


guide thee across the river Nile? Were thou in pretense of ig- 
norance of the terror of the Zobaah? For. Our slaves would 
never have ventured into the path of the Zobaah. Only. Per- 
chance to find a fitly grave within the sandstone beneath the 
bed of this river. 

The prisoner turned facing the courtier. 

Courtier of the King, thou speakst not well. Upon my 
faith. But the turbid water of the Nile is even. Now. Sweet 
and calm. 

Youth jest not in the presence of the King, spake the King 
almost fiercely. Thou art one stranger within the gates of 
Cairo. Becoming too artful with thy ever ready wit. Do mine 
eyes play me well. Thou art a Frenchman by thy birth- 
right? And if so, what wouldst thou here within Egyptian 
borders! It has been well spoken that Egypt has been divined 
for the Egyptian. Likewise let us presume that France has 
been divined for the Frenchman. So. May France contain 
her own. Until thou can prove thyself a French Gentleman 
of goodly purpose. 

%ur Excellency thou dost but mistake in thy otherwise 
goodly judgement. Man by his divine right in the bond of 
brotherhood belongs everywhere. And likened unto the rain- 
bow within the skies, the divine sign of Peace. The bond of 
fellowship hangs upon all courtiers, over all people. Connect- 
ing man with man. Brother with brother. 

It is scribed your Excellency, that it was Iris, our most be- 
loved rainbow who is reputed to be the heralder of the gods 
unto all men. Alike. Men of every nation, men both high 
and lowly. In man. We do find thy noble self. O King. Thy 
courtiers, thy slaves, even my most humble self. And we may 
commission ourselves to travel hither and thither. But 
wherever man goes. There he beholds the divine powers, the 
universal struggles and Nature meets him. Greets him in her 
marvelous handiwork, in the same decreed destiny. With the 
true providence ruling every heart and soul. With an honest 
justice. With a justice even unto the closest laws of virtue. 

Hold thy tongue youth. Enough of thy most idle words, 
exclaimed one courtier who was fired with impatience. 

Thou wouldst chafe our most noble King. With thy satire 
and thy weak pretense at philosophy. 

Another courtier turned to the King. 

O King, I wouldst speak. And the King answered him. 

Landiere, speak. What wouldst thou? 

Your Majesty this stranger doth attempt to baffle thee 


38 


A Princess of the Orient 


with his borrowed philosophy. His satire. I prythee, givth 
not thine ear to him. He comes in the light of no goodly pur- 
pose. I trowth he wouldst stiffle thy suspicions with his 
heavy wit. Me thinks he mayst be a driven fugitive. Yea. 
Rather a magician driven from his own fellowmen, for some 
treason. For mark ye. He speakth no common truth. 
Neither. Doth he speak in upright terms. He seeks to cover 
his truth with his wiley tongue. 

In the next moment that followed the King spake impa- 
tiently to quiet the low murmuring tones of the courtiers 
standing about him. 

Silence. Courtiers thy uproars do indeed stiffle thy King 
most. More than the wit of this youth. Ye all art mad fools 
to wax so mad! Let their be quiet, the youth may continue 
his tale. 

Then the King turned his eyes upon the youth once more. 
The courtiers with cloudy countenances glared at the prison- 
er. 

Gracious thanks, O King, replied the youth. Your Excel- 
lency, in truth thy courtiers do seriously charge me. I am at 
thy mercy because I stand in a strange light before thee. It 
is an anxious mystery that I should be seized by thy slaves 
and boatmen. Truly a misfortune that I have been cast into 
the dungeon. The saffron dungeon. 

The youth trembled slightly as he mentioned the dungeon. 
He pressed his hand to his forehead with a strange jesture. 

And Lady Vivian struck by the horror of these words, as 
they soared in echoes up into the balcony, moved with a 
startle. 

The King’s evident interest invoked a secret bitterness in 
the minds of the mad courtiers. 

Youth, spake the King. What canst thou relate of thy com- 
ing. Of thy most untimely act of being upon the Nile, in the 
direct path of the Zobaah? 

A short silence fell upon the chapel and all eyes were rivet- 
ed upon the youth. Violently. 

Your Excellency. The mystery as surely doth speak in ex- 
planatory terms. Had I come into thy land as one spy. 
Wouldst I not have acquainted myself with thy people, their 
customs and with the tricky Nile? Dost thou believe me mad 
enough to have traveled, willingly into the path of the Zo- 
baah? I prythee, the minds of thy courtiers are wanton. Wan- 
ton unto a ramble. Their brains become lazy with the moist 
of the blue grapes from the great Feiyoom. They are ever 


A Princess of the Orient 


39 


ready with their careless opinions. Zut! Their wit is sleepy 
for they speak by chance. He may have been driven from his 
country! They also swear by their gods. And the youth 
bowed his head in reverence. That he is one spy. 

Be it so. And in truth spoken, your Excellency, is there 
any discredit in being driven from one’s country? The great 
god Apollo was banished from heaven and he was condemned 
to live for a time upon earth. May we do less than this god 
Apollo, without the stinging tongue of mad gossip. Of cen- 
sor? 

The courtiers interrupted in excited frenzy. 

O King, this youth. He doth play lightly with the audi- 
ence of the King. 

Attention courtiers I Pay thou heed unto the philosophy of 
this youth. 

Be ye not so ready to growl one unto another with thy 
jealous snarls. 

And because this youth doth suffer foreign wit within the 
court. 

Disembowel thyself of this infernal chatter. The youth 
may have a hearing. 

Your Highness may the youth then be good enough to ex- 
plain why he sailed upon the Nile waters at this time? Did 
he seek to preform a skillful feat? As if a secret power could 
battle with the science of the Zobaah. Did he seek to beguile 
our most reverent gods? 

Courtiers, better a respectful order be given the King’s 
court. Than thy queries of foolish suspicions. The youth 
may prove his course. Until then. I prythee thrust not ready 
opinions of perfidy. 

Ybur Excellency, continued the youth with a grateful 
smile. The Zobaah has so truly baffled thy courtiers. They 
wouldst know, why I crossed the waters of the Nile. At this 
period. I feign wouldst call the Nile as thy own people do 
call it by name. The Brook of Egypt. And calling it so, swell 
with patriotic pride. In warring times. As in the time of 
peace, this peaceful brook doth play its tricks. History has 
given it this repute. I know not what to call it, your Ex- 
cellency. I trowth a trick of magical worth and science. 

Your Highness, broke in several voices. Our understand- 
ing is now enlightened. Such were our opinions. The youth 
doth speak of war. Aye! Aye! he doth indeed, cried several 
loud voices. 

Courtiers thou doth mistake. I speak but to answer thy 


40 


A Princess of the Orient 


infernal questionings. I repeat, Your Excellency. The Nile. 
The .trickester of Egypt has written her fame within the 
menuories of countless victories of famed warriors. All I 
could and did hope f or. While I was severely whirled within 
the mad current of its waters was. That the gods wouldst so 
shend their service upon me in the battle which I met with 
upon the Nile. Impossible? Nay. Did not the same gods in 
ages long past direct their strong, guidance upon my own 
country men. As they marched upon this city? Within the 
same place where I do now stand? 

A French patriot! Broke in the voices. A violent passion 
filling them all. 

In truth, courtiers of the noble King. I am. A French Pa- 
triot! Thy brains seem, not so sleepy now since thy victories 
float before thy eyes, in glorious pictures. And mark ye, how 
quickly thou canst recall how thy gods divided the waters of 
the Nile. Cutting off the return of my own country men 
whilst they were within the middle of the waters. 

Ah, ye gods! Eg5q)tians too! Of the past and of the pres- 
ent dynasty. What magic electrified this peaceful stream? 

Aye. Your Highness, treason, treason! 

Again the courtiers became incensed. The King lifted 
his hand and spake to quiet them. 

Silence. The youth hath mine ear. Youth thou hast been 
given an audience. And thou didst not avail thyself of thy 
timely opportunity. Neither of this moment with sound sense. 

Courtiers, return thou this youth into the dungeon. The 
Saffron dungeon! 

A pallor over spread the youth’s face. Into his eyes 
gleamed not mercy. But. An unspoken defiance. He turned 
to the King with broken words. Your Excellency I crave thy 
goodly patience. But hear, thou me, More. 

The King hath spoken. Such is the will and the pleasure 
of the King, responded the King. 

And the youth swelling with the burning insult of this 
dungeon’s shadow. Was escorted out of the chapel. 

Calies one courtier spake in merry jest and in loud words 
too. 

To the Saffron dungeon! The dungeon is decorated with 
the honest colour of the yellow saffron. Its floors of noble 
earth. Truly of Nature’s best are sprinkled with the saffron 
dust. Me thinks a most fitly repose for such as thee. A spy! 

And the moderate eye, my youth. Jeeringly taunted Calies. 
The moderate eye, ever rememberst thou. The moderate use 


A Princess of the Orient 


41 


of saffron is goodly for the sleepy head. And it makth the 
senses more quicke, more alive. It shakth off thy heavy wit. 
It makth man merry. More merry than the tinkling belled 
imps wh.0 dance round the brassen pot of burning incense. 
Within the gate of the inferno. For therein. The vigil of 
man’s soul is oft awakened by the descending of an arch 
angel. 

In faith. It is teeming with goodly attributes is this balm 
of saffron. 

And my foreign youth, thou wilt have time therein to 
meditate. Thou indeed mayst weep and weep. Who canst 
divine it a chance to deliver thee. For it is spoken even. 
The crocodile’s tears are never true save when he is forced 
where the saffron grows. 

An uproar of coarse laughter filled the chapel. 

The youth turned in anger, affronting Calies boldly. 

So it is. This is in Eg5q)t. Alack! In other coimtries. In 
the civilized countries it is also known that men are burned 
in public market places for using saffr’on. 

Fie! Ye French people of thicken judgement, answered 
one courtier. 

The King lifted his hand in command. 

Return the youth immediately into the saffron dungeon. 

Without word, without look the youth walked without the 
chapel. 

The heavy door sounded its lock. The aged King reclined 
himself into a study. Mayhap! A melancholic reverie. 

The fiery French blood is burning still in this youth. Me 
thinks he comes for no goodly purport. He may fetch or other- 
wise seek to carry back a secret purport to his King. He has 
designed it clearly. For he is distinctly, sharply clever. He 
is truly versed and doth bear a culture. His tongue is ever 
ready with wit and his mind keen to discernment. But. By 
the gods. I shall writhe him intjo confession. A few more 
days and weeks within the thicken shade of the saffron dun- 
geon will serve excellently to cool the French fire in his blood. 

The King sat thus. Meditating. Over the illustriously se- 
vere punishment of the prisoner. Perchance there was a 
sense of fellow feeling alive within him. For there are times 
when stern duty veils a tender heart in all mankind. Alike. 

As the King sat thus. The Lady Vivian seated still with- 
in the balcony looked down upon him, with a breathless 
prayer for the youth. 


42 


A Princess of the Orient 


And she hastily descended the broadstairway. She sought 
her own chamber. With a heavy heart. 

O Gods! Thou art good, unutterably kind. I prythee 
gather gently round this youth. Cherish and protect him. 
And. Pardon the King! 

CHAPTER V. 

The Royal Festival. 

And Mirth and Gladness are the Master 
And Mistress of the ceremonies. 

Garden of Mirth. 

The Royal Festival. It was brilliant. The Prince Gov- 
ernor M. Theron had given this festival in one of the court 
temples. 

This palatial temple was thronged with gay companies and 
the gayest of all Cairo were his guests. 

The hospital Prince Governor had gained for himself the 
reputation of being the most pleasure loving person in Cairo. 
His love for frivolous allurements had made him popular. 
And he always surrounded himself with extravagant pleasures. 

The Prince Governor upon this night was entertaining the 
Oriental Princess. Princess Roxana of the Persian House. 
It had been many days, since they had arrived in Cairo. 
After a long journey across the country. 

The magnificent temple stood in conspicuous gardens. One 
blazing spectacle. The inner halls were decorated and fes- 
tooned in the most artistic effects with garlands of the lotus 
bud and of the egaltine. In the center of this oblong cham- 
ber. That which was the most spacious of all the chambers. 
There was a huge crystal ball hanging from its most central 
beams. It showered a brilliancy of light upon the gay as- 
sembly. While upon the side walls there were hanging oddly 
shaped lanterns of true Egyptian fashion. The dull soft light 
of these many hued lanterns contrasting wonderfully with the 
large crystal ball from which such bright lights diffused the 
dull glow of the lanterns. The bewildering temple challenged 
the chimerical spirit of every guest and the evening wore on 
with its splendid and most unique attractions. 

Festive dancers danced before the guests. Singers sang 
their strains of pleasures of love of wine. Of beauteous Na- 
ture. 

The Prince Governor a charming host was he. Enchanting 
the pleasure of the evening with pleasant turns. And tales. 
And he was not wanting in delicate wit. He entertained. He 
fascinated his guests. To the delight of his guests he related 


A Princess of the Orient 


43 


the tale of “The Swan’s Delusion.” This tale he related with 
graceful art. It ran thus — 

The gods had made the day. The spot. And everything, 
every living creature therein, even to the fowls of the field, 
the birds of the air and the flowers blooming everywhere. 
And too. They made a sparkling brooklet. For there upon 
doth hang this tale. 

An ivied sycamore leaning upon the bank of a rushing 
brook. Alike a trained sentinel upon guard, was only one of 
many trees standing in a glade. 

We. As if in the fairy’s train stopped in admiration of this 
perfect sycamore. The silvered markings of its trunk, its 
branches overcast by the brown shadows peeping through 
the lustre green of the ivy tangling itself closely round the 
tree, even upon its forked branches. Was a fitly. A conven- 
tional drawing against the green clear space surrounding it. It 
was a gloriously perfect day. The searching sun shone full 
and warm, the serene skies were of heaven’s own blue. 
Naught disturbed the dignity of the atmosphere yet a soft 
zephyr wafted everywhere in graceful sweeps bearing the 
song of the birds, the perfume of the field roses. And gently. 
So gently it touched the artistically defined leaves of this 
majestic sycamore. Nature never would have devined such 
a glorious picture without the clear waters of a brook. 

The red lily may have bloomed in the rocky bed of this 
care-free brook. The fishes may have swum in its capering 
•Waters but the marked beauty of this picture was an im- 
mense snowy swan playing upon the warm ripples of the 
water. It had swum down the brook with its dignified strokes, 
its proud head erect its eyes keen to all the floating beauties 
which followed it, as it coursed the water. Upon either side 
Nature smiled in graceful jestures and with greetings so fair. 

What a monster of beauty. 

We loved it. For its snowy plumage, its natural grace, its 
pride and for its superb beauty. And it was not habitually 
grave for it did bear an inborn dignity. 

The object of our admiration. This proud swan suddenly 
moved with a quickened unrest. It become disturbed. We. 
Then beheld the cause of its new distress. Upon one bank 
of this saucy brook. There. Stood a gorgeous peafowl. Our 
eyes were intently bent upon this fowl. It stood quite mo- 
tionless. It seemed to be assured of an audience. Probably 
from the birds of the fields, the fowls, the nodding heads of 
the blooming flowers. From every living creature. It 


44 


A Princess of the Orient 


preened itself. And after having done so, it strutted with 
lofty steps up. Then down. Backward and forward upon 
this bank. Exhibiting flaming bright colours. It never for 
an instant left the bank of this brook. Its feathers so smooth 
so shining as the soft rays of the sun gleamed upon them. 
And the celestial bliss of the peafowl, all inflamed the swan. 
And intensely too. 

Our eyes followed the swan. The swan a silence audience 
to this splendid fowl’s beauty looked upon its own quiet life- 
less feathers. Then. Upon the iridescence of the peafowl 
which stood shimmering such brilliancy upon the clearest 
water. And the very waters challenging in mockery, mir- 
rored the picture. It was a true battle. 

At this point of the tale as the Prince Governor faltered. 
A shrill whisper cast its echo upon the speaker. He turned 
but only caught the echo upon his ready ear. The echoes 
from these words — “Persia and Egypt.” 

For one moment only, as a hushed amazement checked the 
Prince Governor. Then he continued his tale. 

We enjoyed the jealous battle of these two fowls. The one 
master of the fields. The other master of the waters. 

Enfin^ The swan demeaned itself shamefully. It stroke 
out. Void of the reputed swanly dignity. The swan turned. 
Slowly. Leaving its position upon the warm water. It swam. 
Fast, faster. Until by a zigzagging of the brook. The 
bushes, dotted with the bright red lillies hid all view of its 
trail. And the brook remained but a design of ripples. And 
rippling circles. 

The swan so mutely fled in disgust of its bequeath of quiet 
beauty. It could not be a misapprehension. It remains so. 
Now. The peafowl stood benignly surveying the situation. 
No lesser were its glories, its victories than were man in his 
thrust for victory. Be it for a beauty, a power or a kingly 
rule! Suddenly. A chorus of song birds flew to the brook. 
This gathering of the birds must have been to sing the fate 
of the swan. 

There were the linnets, the larks, the thrush and many of 
the Oriental songsters. We watched them in their graceful 
turns, their twitting, their chirping. We tabulated by count- 
ing their twitters that as many must have cast their votes for 
the swan. As did for the peafowl. 

Alack! The decision could be discerned but by our sacred 
Ibis bird. And he was not present in this gathering. There- 
fore. We slowly turned and made our way back through the 


A Princess of the Orient 


45 


fresh scented fields. Home. There was no hint of a battle 
within the larger world of Cairo. For it all bore the mark- 
ings of a well governed city. Undisturbed by individual 
controversy. All tending towards greater causes. 

But the delusion of the swan still remained stamped upon 
our minds. And with pity. We recount the vision of this 
play. Many times. Then. It was our, understanding was 
enlightened. 

Now scarcely had the Prince Governor finished his tale. 
The timid ladies all so fair. Waxed impatient. The gentle- 
men turned one to the other. And queried in anxious voices 
Boldly. “What be the meaning of such a light, unfinished 
tale”? 

The words. The sense of this tale being measured well. 
There must remain a hidden meaning. 

There was not much time measured the guests for a deeper 
reflection of this strange tale. The Prince Governor himself^ 
turned abruptly. And the guests remained whist. 

For suddenly the capering of a gazelle burst upon them. 
They felt alarmed. Then in turn, they divined the novel 
trick of their charming host. They promptly released the 
mist of the tale. They gladly entered into the spirit of his 
humorous wit. 

The gazelle. A petted animal which is so frequently 
found in the Egyptian Estates. Gracefully capered round 
the chamber. It came from one side wing of the temple 
court, from a long window shaded with projecting corners of 
graceful wood work and ornamented with artistic glass. This 
window was attractive with its dull richness of Egyptian 
colouring scheme. It had been suddenly lighted into a bril- 
liant blaze of lights. The gazelle was bearing upon its 
slender back a clown covered with green leaves. Wearing a 
most flaming vivid red face mask. The clown tricked the 
guests with many magical arts. In a weird sort of a trick. 
The lights flashed red, which lighted his mask. They flashed 
green which lighted his body-coat of leaves. In this alterna- 
tive flash, the lights tricked merry laughter from every one. 
By some sudden smart turn, the clown made bold to seize 
the Oriental Princess. He made bolder to place the Princess 
upon the gazelle. 

The gazelle stood stubbornly motionless under his new 
charge. Then, suddenly. He playfully capered round bear- 
ing the Princess upon his back. The Princess clasped her 
bare arms tightly around the neck of the animal. 


46 


A Princess of the Orient 


And amid even a sense of keen joy, a frightened look fell 
upon her beautiful face. 

While the gazelle darted out of the ornamented window. 

The merry guests so beseiged with mirth applauded vigor- 
ously. The flushed Princess as she lithly stepped backward 
through the charmed window. 

The gazelle scampered away. Probably lost in the court 
garden. 

The Princess too. Had accepted the trick in a merry way. 
She enjoyed the freedom of such an extreme novelty. For 
she stood a stranger among the Egyptian people. 

The clown! The clown! cheered the guests. 

But. The clown had mysteriously disappeared through 
some magic opening. 

The guests nodded their heads. Now, They began to scan- 
dal! 

The clown served to solve the riddle of the Swan’s Delu- 
sion. 

And the guests whispered more. Bemused by these ques- 
tions. 

Lady Vivian stood an object of direct gossip. The lovely 
Lady Vivian. 

A beautiful picture upon this night as she appeared in a 
robe of deepest yellow velvet. Glittering bands of jewels fin- 
ished her robe in graceful lines. Her large black eyes, her 
glossy blacken hair. All. Brought a freshness to her youth- 
ful face. The golden sun glow doth likewise light the even- 
ing skies. 

And the Persian Princess stood scandalized ! 

And what a beautiful creature she stood. Her dignified 
poise, embellished by her scarlet robe, which hung in such 
graceful lines round her slender form. A chain of exquisite 
pearls suspended round her snowy white neck, from which 
hung a magnificent jewel cask. Of rare workmanship and set 
in pearls. This was her only jewel. The bands of ermine 
fur and seed pearl upon her scarlet robe, served only to paint 
the Princess. More beautiful. And her cheeks were full of 
roses. Deep and red. 

All eyes were upon these two fair ladies. And their beauty 
was much talked of. 

Upon this most awkard moment which fell upon the host. 
As well as upon his guests. The host, with a quicken and 
usual graciousness ushered his guests into another chamber. 

And this. Was the circular chamber. Here. The guests 


A Princess of the Orient 


47 


were feasted with delights. The Hours’ handiwork beseem- 
ing a Sculptor’s court, lent most extravagant charms to the 
entire chamber. It shed the lavish allurements of the gods’ 
pleasure. And Art. And the Royal Festival was counted a 
success I 


CHAPTER VI. 

The Coffee-Shop. 

The Indi§erent may love the Goody because of the Presence 
of Evil. 


From Lysis — Plato. 

The public square in Cairo was called the Ezbekeeyak. 
The morning sun was shining brightly upon its narrow un- 
sightly streets. The Oriental picture of these streets with 
their crowded low, builded houses was not pleasantly appeal- 
ing to the eye. A few. Perhaps several scattering houses 
were very picturesque but the most of the houses were un- 
attractive hovels. With long windows. The windows were 
filled with glittering pieces of zigzag glass. Some hovels had 
only torn awnings swinging from their window frames. This 
was the unsightly approach to the Ezbekeeyak. 

These characteristic lanes led through a garden. The 
public garden upon the extreme part of the park, and there 
a lake was met. This lake was a pride to the people of Cairo. 
Its clear green waters mirrored each passing shadow. The 
vivid colouring of the bright skies, the dullest colouring of 
sullen skies and the turbulent clouds as they piled and rolled 
in their blustery way. Not a bird. Neither an insect that 
flew across this lake but that was clearly visible in its green 
water. A cluster of pigeons together with some water 
fowls held the attention of an aged man who was 
restlessly standing near to the edge of this lake. He 
stood watching some pigeons fly above. Circling round the 
lake in their playful rounds. They would perch themselves 
upon the stone wall of the lake, cooing and nestling. They 
would dip their slight bodies into the transparent water, then 
fly away, only to return with the green water of this Nile 
lake still glistening and dripping from their slaty blue wings. 
And large crystal drops hanging from their white feathery 
breasts. They would lower themselves, dipping their beaks 
into the water which would be still full of rings and ripples 
and as the force of each ring became wider. Less distinct. 
A few morsels of food such as had been thrown in by idle 
passers-by could be still seen floating upon the surface of 
the lake, and the pigeons devouring them. 


48 


A Princess of the Orient 


Suddenly. The thick set cactus bushes that surrounded 
the lake parted in motion. With a great piercing cry the 
aged man, still standing in close meditation. Gazing into the 
still rippling water fell to the ground, by a bullet shot. 

And. Many moments he lay writhing in pain. And the 
pigeons flew over above him. Still in their play. 

Lady Vivian daughter to the King was passing through the 
garden. She came upon the suffering man. She stopped, 
she bent over him and spoke to him. His words were unin- 
telligent. However she ascertained the hurt to be a stray 
bullet, which had penetrated his ankle. It had wounded him 
painfully but not too seriously. She spake so gently to him 
but his only response was. The pain! The pain! Then. 
He opened his eyes and he beheld the lovely face of Lady 
Vivian bending over him. And then he answered her. The 
trouble what was it, what have I done? 

My good man, responded Lady Vivian, I do not know. I 
came but now into the park. It must have been a stray 
bullet from the boys in the park. 

And then the wounded man lay back upon the ground and 
closed his eyes. 

Lady Vivian looked at him in his suffering. Then spake 
unto him again. 

Come. I will take thee to thy home. And she put out her 
hand to assist him to raise himself from the ground. But 
the old man did not move. He opened his eyes with a fixed 
stare upon her face. He startled her with these words. 
Home? Home didst thou so speak? 

Yea, my good man. Dost thou fear me! I will harm thee 
not. Permit me I prythee to assist thee to thy good home. 

As she leaned closer over the frail form of this broken man 
clad in ragged garment. He looked into her commanding yet 
kindly eyes as a child would have done. He placed his 
withered hand into her small white hands. Then gently. So 
gently it was, she drew him upon his feet. Slowly they 
walked to the edge of the park, the old man leaning entirely 
upon her for some support. They came upon a handsome 
carriage drawn by two glistening black horses, harnessed in 
tandem and bearing gold trimmed strappings. Upon reach- 
ing this carriage. A footman dismounting, assisted Lady 
Vivian in placing the wounded man in the carriage. As they 
drove on their way. Out of the park she coaxed a few 
words from the wounded man. 


A Princess of the Orient 


49 


My good man do not fear me. I am a friend and I will 
bear thee into thy own house at once. 

The man’s eyes glared wildly, his voice trembled. 

Home? I knowth not where to call home. I have no home. 

Thou hast no home? Then of thy people? 

And people? I have none. 

Then surely, spake she with compassion. Thou hast 
friends or some friend to whom I may take thee? 

Alack! My good lady, I have none. And then the 
wounded man smiled. 

No friends? But hold I do not mean that, dear lady. 

Upon hearing these words Lady Vivian was pleased. Yea. 
Surely thou hast friends. 

Friends? Yea! The trees, the fields, the birds. These 
are my friends. And more too for the everywhere doth hold 
Nature, my friend. And no home kind lady? 

Yea. My home free is within all public parks and fields. 

Lady Vivian attempted to speak but he impatiently inter- 
rupted her with loud raspy words. Yea. I speak but the 
truth. A public charge am I. Truly a miserable wretched 
man. Child look ye upon my face. Look ye hard and close. 
What do thine eyes behold? 

She leaned closer. She looked upon his drawn pinched 
face and she believed him to be delirious with pain. And she 
answered not his rambling words. 

Then he continued in almost stubborn words. I am the 
wandering Jew. 

He flung his arms in wild gestures. And he became rest- 
less. 

Be quiet my good man. Thou dost only cause thyself 
more pain. I will bear thee into the home of thy friends 
immediately. 

But. I. attempted the man to speak. 

Lady Vivian interrupted him. Now. We will seek a phy- 
sician to bind thy ankle. Rest thy self and be calm. I 
prythee. 

The carriage rolled on. Lady Vivian firmly, gently placed 
her arm around him holding him quiet. And he lay ex- 
hausted. 

The sweet spirit of pity and love swelled her soul. Liken 
a sweet angel of mercy she looked upon him. How pathetic 
did he seem! His eyes were fastened upon her. Two large 
tears streamed down his ill kempt face. ’Twas joy and sorrow 


so 


A Princess of the Orient 


alike gleaming in his worn face. ’Twas pity shending her 
light upon the pathway of grim misfortune. 

As the carriage drove on, loud jeers from a crowd reached 
Lady Vivian and the wounded man. Even as the carriage 
carried its occupants through into the lane leading to the 
center of the city. Loud laughter. Boisterous words filled 
the air and fell upon them. A sharp report from a revolver 
was keenly heard. The wounded man shrieked in new ter- 
ror, clinging to Lady Vivian. She firmly pressed her hand 
upon his arm with an assurance. 

It comes from the Coffee Shop. They are merry with 
amusement. Upon my faith, their base oaths. They must 
be fou — too merry with drink. 

And the carriage passed on. Soon they reached a build- 
ing. Wherein Lady Vivian placed the wounded man to be 
cared for. She summoned a physician who skillfully bound 
his ankle. And the physician pronounced him not seriously 
injured. Then Lady Vivian returned to her own palace 
chamber. 

Now in the Coffee Shop. The guests sang merrily some in 
impassioned strains, others without tune or rhyme. Their 
vulgar voices grew loud. They became gross. 

This day was a day of their masquerades and these mas- 
queraders were the triumphs of the Coffee Shop. From 
without the azure blue sky, the glowing sunshine streamed 
down into this den, falling directly upon the forms and faces 
of two masqueraders who were standing by the side of a low 
half broken hole which served as a window in this Shop. 

One of these two forms was that of a horseman who hav- 
ing left his tent the night before had just entered into Cairo 
at full gallop. He was the bearer of a heralder unto the 
Prince Governor of their city. The men, the women who 
frequented this shop were accustomed to such events. Im- 
mediately continued their games and their songs after this 
mad horseman had so abruptly entered into their midst. 
These men jeered the heralder. They cried in hoarse voices. 
From Men-Nofer! The mad man from the good Station! 

The horseman neatly clad in brown leathern uniform stood 
majestic within their midst. He attempted to answer their 
jeers. And he lifted his voice to them. Fellow-men, I do 
come from Men-Nofer. I hail from the good Station. I 
come with a herald for thy honourable Prince Governor. 
These ten miles clear from the western bank of the Nile, I 
have ridden my steed. The road-way is rough as ye all 


A Princess of the Orient 


51 


well know. But my fellow-men. Ne’er a steed could cover 
so well as mine. My faithful animal. 

As the horseman faltered, the crowd jeered him louder 
than before. And he hotly flushed. He raised his voice 
louder than the most shameful voice therein. 

Ye may quit thy daffin and thy gabbin, sirs. I tell ye 
fellow citizens — ’Twill be one great time in Cairo when the 
Prince Governor closes these most damnable Coffee Shops. 

Ay! cried the others. And how come ye, a heralder to 
know the plans of our Prince Governor? Ay! Ay! I say 
again. Ye, who doth proclaim that the Prince-Governor 
will close the Coffee-Shops. Now, how comes ye to be so 
familiar with thy city’s plans? ’Twere but lately ye were of 
us. Now. Be ye one of the like of Bubastis changing into 
a Cat to avoid the wrath of Tyhon? 

Stop fellah! It is upon the honour of an honourable 
gentleman: A true Egyptian. Sirs that I do now stand 
here. I do the duty of a true citizen to decry the Coffee 
Shop. 

Noddy! The noddy! broke in the voices. 

Aye, aye cowards. Ye honest cowards if such there be. 
With cowardly hearts beatin’ in ye wicked bosoms, spake 
the stout-hearted horseman much agitated. 

Did ye not shoot the harmless old man, standing in the 
park garden just now? The defenseless old man who did ye. 
Neither none of thine harm nor hurt? Has all brotherly 
feeling died within ye soul, that ye didst make a human 
body thy target practice? Thy deed was niggardly for an 
Egyptian. 

The horse-man spake with most bitter words. Contempt 
gleamed from his eyes as they were cast round and upon the 
red blurring faces of these rough men gathered closely 
around him. 

Hold! Ye human leopard with shifting spots! Be ye then 
so ignorant to think ye are not the man who has no soul? 
Who for thy own people doth not hurl thy defense? A poor 
grade Egyptian ye be not to hurl the colours of thy country 
in the face of the Shepherd. The treacherous Jew! Be ye 
then hot and wanting the Jew to mock ye? To witness the 
Jew stain thy country’s goodly banner? By ye gods! The 
yellow and the green be my colours. And proud I be of them, 
for I am a deep dyed Egyptian. 

Ya! Lateef! Ya! Lateef! O Gracious God! O Gracious 


52 


A Princess of the Orient 


God! Cried all these men in the coffee shop as they bowed 
their heads. 

The horseman paled, he stood aghast at these grievous 
jeers. He answered them not. He stood in a candid dis- 
gust watching an intoxicated man who jostled in this gather- 
ing for a dance partner. He rudely tore one girl from a 
table of merry drinkers. He swung the girl into the floor 
of the masqueraders. And to the tune of quaint string music 
the pair danced one of their jigs. Named the Green Sleeves. 

The girl’s brightest blue and yellow robe was vulgarly 
fashioned and worn. Her bright jewels, her bold jewelry 
made her one blaze of glitter. While her long braids of 
black hair swung backward as she danced. The pair danced 
in the true oriental way. The Green Sleeves. The favorite 
and one of the native steps of the Coffee-Shop. This dance 
consisting mostly of stepping in long strides, in circles and 
ended with a noisy jig. 

Loud applauds brought the dancing pair to a standstill. 
Louder than all, the cries of the intoxicated man were heard. 

Down with the yellow and the green! Strip the banner of 
Eg3q)t! Ya Lateef! 

O Gracious God! Strip the yellow and the green! 

Treason! Treason! Cried the coarse voices of all the mas- 
queraders. And instantly their singing, their music stopped. 
Two officers came quickly forward. They handcuffed the 
drunken offender. They led him out of the shop. 

Such an occurance was not foreign to the masqueraders of 
these Coffee Shops in this oriental city. Their fun-fest be- 
ing interrupted not for a great length of time and this un- 
fortunate man was quickly forgotten by them. 

Dancing, singing and games were again in full swing. 
Within one small den, curtained off from the open shop. 
Several men with women reclined upon benches of wood. 
Smoking hasheeh in a water-pipe hewn from the cocoa-nut, 
which had two tubes and a bowl. They sat stupified by the 
intoxication of the narcotic. They muttered one to the 
other such silly, unbefitting words and phrases. 

One man fired extremely by the intoxication boldly af- 
fronted this crowd. He called for an audience in a steep 
and abrupt manner. Then cheered, likewise jeered by his 
drowsy lookerson. He danced an un wieldly dance to the 
sounds of some crude stringed instrument which native 
youths were playing. Scarcely had he begun his steps. A 
maiden. Alive with dazzling mirth, with natural grace 


A Princess of the Orient 


53 


whirled into their midst. The willowy form of the dancing 
maid, her dainty steps, her graceful dignity, her dark eyes 
flashing free. All. Was most charming to the eye. 

Her slender shapely feet gracefully tripped lightly touch- 
ing the powdered chalk white floor. The black silken scarf 
was wrapped artistically round her slight body in soft 
folds. In snug lines. Her raven hair swung loosely in 
long braids. She wore no jewels upon her pink arms. 
Neither upon her hands. She danced with the bird Ibis 
upon the finger-tip of the index finger of her left hand. It 
being a perfect imitation. 

This dancer knew most. Why she so reverently carried 
the image of Ibis. 

The fascinating tenderness of the melody of the tones of 
the weird music of these musicians of the Orient. The love- 
liness of the dancing maid. As a breathe of dainty Spring 
blown in upon them, in this pink blush. All. Fired the 
guests even unto those who were so intoxicated as to be in- 
sensibly awake to their surroundings. 

In this mad enthusiasm the men lifted the dancer, they 
carried her to a niche in the front of the Coffee Shop. A 
square unique carbon black table. With blackest felt top 
stood there. And upon this table they gently placed her. 
Oddly enough stood this table. Without the outline of the 
sinewy form of an Egyptian youth who was stationed by the 
side of it. This youth wore a robe of striped yellow and 
scarlet and to the side of his head was bound a long unbent 
feather of the colour scarlet. The mid-night blue stones 
studded the mid-night blue band which bound the feather 
to his head. He stood swinging a hand censer by a chain. 
And this censor of brass was filled with the Aloe wood. 

This vivacious dancing maid stood upon the table. She 
made a pretty picture. She was admired. She enjoyed this 
bit of feminine frivolity. It befitted the dare-devil trick of 
her daring to come. To visit the much talked of Coffee 
Shop. Standing in this much admired position, her cheeks 
were as roses, her eyes gleaming with tantalizing light. She 
smiled with a roguish smile. Then. She lifted her bewitch- 
ing eyes. Directly into a pair of keen searching black eyes 
of a gentleman who had been standing near to this table. He 
had witnessed this maiden enter into the shop. He had 
watched her all the while with closest attention, as she 
danced. 

The gentleman stood in a mute, almost that which seemed 


54 


A Princess of the Orient 


an unmeasurable silence. With a biting, sternly attitude, 
with his arms folded firmly upon his chest. He remained. 
As he had entered, aloof from all the other guests in the 
shop. 

Silence all! The gentleman was Canterre. For he the 
imprisoned youth had been liberated from the saffron dun- 
geon. And notably by order of the King. 

The gentleman. The dancing maid. Their eyes met in a 
quickening light. 

Some depth lieth hidden between these two persons. 

Demurly did the dancing maid again and again droop her 
head. Her pretty flower-like face was veiled in guilt. 

But. Canterre smiled not. Neither did his eyes speak 
any friendly consent. 

His lips were compressed. Why did he stare so hardly at 
the dancing maid. Did he seek to stiffle his own feelings 
breathed from injured suspense? Did his lips deny him ut- 
terance? 

And the daring oriental Princess. For it was she. The 
Persian Princess Roxana. Early ripe with a sense of guilt 
hastily sprang from this table. She turned not. Neither 
did she falter. She slipped out of the shop. Leaving the 
amazed guests. In petrified wonderment. 

This was to Canterre but the mad frolic of a silly maiden. 
To Princess Roxana it meant much. 

Would Canterre expose her? On, on she sped. Faltering 
not until she reached her own bed chamber. 

Now. The pink breathe of light tantalizing Spring had 
vanished. And the cold lines of unsophisticating Wisdom. 
Perhaps. Of Judgement bore upon her lovely face. ^ 

And the Princess Roxana sat in the deepest regret. While 
Canterre remained in the Coffee Shop watching. Idly. The 
coming, the going of the masqueraders. 

CHAPTER VII. 

Lady Catherine. 

There is a power which acts within us without consulting us. 

— Voltaire. 

Lady Vivian had spent a very restless night. She arose 
early in the morning. Hurriedly leaving the palace, unat- 
tended. She sought Lady Catherine. The companion of 
her girlhood days. Entering into the attractive chapel she 
was greeted by Lady Catherine. For this Sculptor chapel 
was the studio of Lady Catherine. 

Lady Vivian emerged into an atmosphere of art definitely 


A Princess of the Orient 


55 


classic where statues stood realistically modeled with light 
and with shadow on their rounded outlines. Here. The air- 
iest creatures of fancy took shape and they weaved a dance 
of rhythmic light, incomparable intricacy. 

The Sculptoress lived nearly entirely in the classic world 
as her chapel portrayed. 

Nevertheless. Her art gave colour of the most pro- 
nounced realism. The loftiest idealism. The feeling of Na- 
ture was intensely strong in her as shown by her sentiments. 
Both sweet and melancholy in her rare models. And all her 
marvelous work was accomplished in a distinctive modest 
manner. For she modeled in her chapel, hours and hours. 
Tireously. 

She shut herself away from the busy world without. 

Her distinctly. Her most distinctive love of seclusion be- 
ing quite a striking contrast to the gay society of the Eg}^)- 
tian Court. And of her companions. 

Herein. She sculptored. She dreamed. Nay, not did she 
dream for dreamers float listlessly into pleasant nothings. 
She sculptored. This was the art chapel of Lady Catherine. 

Lady Vivian was met with Mordane. A finely cultured 
gentleman and an assistant to Lady Catherine. 

Greetings Mordane! May I disturb Lady Catherine this 
early hour? 

Fair morning to thee Lady Vivian. I will announce thee. 
Prythee recline thyself upon this bench. 

I thank thee, Mordane responded Lady Vivian with a 
sweet manner. 

As Mordane left the studio. Lady Vivian did not recline 
herself upon the proffered bench. Rather. Did she stand in 
an open admiration before the wonderful bits of modeling 
placed round in this chapel. She stood thus. Many mom- 
ents lost in fancies, when Lady Catherine entered. 

A lady fair to look upon. With heavenly azure blue in 
her eyes and with rich coils of hair which was of a golden 
hue. Her movements were marked with an air of dignity 
and from every glance of her wonderful eyes gleamed refined 
art. 

Both her manner and her conception were elegant. They 
were delightfully penetrating. Her silken robe of blue ar- 
ranged so simple. She wore gracefully. 

Vivian, so early in the morning! Dear I am delighted to 
embrace thee. 


56 


A Princess of the Orient 


These two companions fondly embraced. They reclined 
themselves within a rounder nook in one corner of the chapel. 

Catherine do not quit thy modeling. Come. I will sit 
with thee. I wish it my dear. 

Sweet companion do thou come. Sit with me. Mordane 
and myself are just now finishing a rare bit of modeling. 

And the companions. One^so dark and beautiful. One so 
fair and lovely. Walked into the inner study chapel. Arm 
in arm. 

Mordane was standing' unnoticed by the ladies. He 
marveled in admiration of these contrasting beauties. 

Lady Catherine charmed everyone with her embodiment 
of natural grace and culture. Her face so purely a classical 
taste' 

While Lady Vivian charmed because she was supple, 
fawning. She was luxurious. True. She was no genius in 
sculpturing. She wore not the grace of an artist. Lady 
Vivian was just Lady Vivian with a rich mind enclosed in 
woman’s beauteous mold. And she was given to vicious 
love. The sylphs may have sculptured this sparkling darl- 
ing for their care. And in doing so. Conjured all of earth 
below given, to deny her naught, but her most violent de- 
sires. 

Lady Catherine’s love of art awakened every grace with- 
in her and likewise. Lady Vivian’s desire of study and her 
love of court pleasures awakened every power. Every grace 
within her. 

These two companions framed a charming picture. They 
chatted most recklessly as the sculptoress stroke her chisel 
upon her little model before her. 

Vivian isn’t it a fine study? And Lady Catherine held 
her model before her exhibiting the greatest pride in her 
work. The lightning glance of an artist’s joy beamed upon 
her model. She turned to Lady Vivian. 

It is from the hand of a true genius Catherine dear, 
answered Lady Vivian, heedlessly. 

The Sculptoress turned and rested her amazement upon 
the disturbed face of her companion. Then. She riveted 
her glance again upon her model. 

Vivian dear, this. Pointing to her model, this is the 
Knight’s Message. 

The Golden Violet. Ah! but Vivian thou art in no mood 
to enjoy this study. It is from a marvelous collection of 
one of the old Italian Masters. 


A Princess of the Orient 


57 


Ah! Catherine but I do admire it intensely. Indeed. I 
do think it wonderful. I know it is a very choice bit of 
work. I know it is from an old Classic. But in truth, dear 
companion I do not have the nature of a Sculptoress. And 
therefore I remain incapable to judge, all to finely. 

Lady Vivian did not even as much as assume any very 
great interest in the model. Her eyes seem to wander far, 
far into boundless space. Her whole attitude was listless. 
She arose. Turning her face away from the Sculptoress 
and as she stood before an art glass window she gazed far 
into space. 

Lady Catherine quit her modeling. She eagerly turned 
with a quickening compassion. 

Vivian, sweet companion there are tears in thy eyes. Thy 
face is heavy with lines. Do confide in me, I know thou art 
sorely troubled. 

Lady Vivian gently embraced her companion. And. Too 
she struggled hard and fast to restrain the tears which were 
trickling down her sweet face. 

Catherine I pry thee it is naught. I spent a restless night. 
Scarcely did I close my eyes in sleep and the long hours of 
night held me in their mighty, their sleepless grasp. I deem 
it was but a spell of meditation that which always follows 
a few hours of troubled thought. I trowth, it is naught. 

Vivian do not deny me in such a light manner. Am I not 
the companion of thy bosom? I know thou art hiding a se- 
cret and I fear a sorrow. It is unlikely, so unlikely true to 
thyself. Thou surely must have borrowed the habit of the 
ancient sages. That of lying upon thy bed couch and 
courting the secrets of thy bosom, in the black hours of the 
night? Not so, my companion. I deem it not thy habit. 
Because I know thou art troubled. Unto a sadness. I pry- 
thee confide in me. Catherine I know not. Dost thou chide 
me with play of light words? 

Never Vivian it is not the time for jest. Thou in whom 
my heart doth delight, thinkest thou I speak to chide thee 
when thou art in sorrow? And thou who art so learned. 
Dost thy knowledge of life awaken from the secrets and the 
sorrows of people? Do they so accost thee with the weight 
of sleepless nights? Ah! not so companion, I tell thee nay, 
for I will not believe it. 

Catherine the ancient sages may count their secrets, count 
their sorrows upon their bed-couch of grim care. But. Why 
doth, mortal mind lay in trouble’s embrace? My sweet 


58 


A Princess of the Orient 


companion, continued Lady Vivian. I beg thee, dost thou 
hold credence in the belief of fate? 

At this instant the ladies turned at the sound of the strik- 
ing of a soft gong. It was but the hour bell. But of a 
quickened sudden. The eyes of both were held in a startled 
gaze. Upon a handsome. A gold framed mirror which rest- 
ed upon a low stand of marble and in one side of the chapel. 
This mirror reaching from, nearly the beamed ceiling and 
escaping the floor only by the height of its marble base. 
And this measured narrow. 

The companions turned one to the other and in frightened 
clasp they held hands. 

Catherine didst thou behold too? The cypher upon that 
mirror? 

And Lady Catherine trembling with awe whispered, 
did.” 

The sun fell in direct and searching rays upon this ex- 
quisite mirror. In its vigil, a picture took shape. Strange 
cyphers appeared upon the mirror and lingered there upon. 

The thoughts of the ladies were but merest suggestion of 
intelligence. They were mystified. 

Catherine. Perchance the Sun soblazing doth overcome 
our vision with a daltonism. That we understand not the 
meaning of these strange cyphers. 

Nay Vivian. The Sun only creates the vision, possible. 
Behold, dear. 

Now. The strange lettering doth fade. 

And as they both watched with eager intent they beheld 
more. For in the place of the strange unintelligible cyphers 
came. Distinctly. This phrase. “Vivian Queen of France.” 
“Catherine Queen of Egypt.” 

Then. A moment only it was visible for it faded entire- 
ly. The sun seemed veiled. A few streaks of dim light fell 
into the windows. The mirror was clear, and entirely with- 
out marks. It shone in its former elegance. The elegance 
that had always graced the beautiful Sculptor chapel. 

An awkard silence fell upon the ladies. Then. Trembling 
steps led them into another corner of the chapel for they 
wanted to be away from this mirror of such repute. They 
reclined themselves in quiet comfort. 

Catherine canst thou divine any magic in that mirror? 

I know not in what sense to answer thee, Vivian. Sure- 
ly. The mirror is of my possession but I swear unto thee. In 


A Princess of the Orient 59 

Saintly truth. I have never before, ever witnessed such a 
happening. 

In truth Catherine I beseech thee. One fair question. For 
thy mind is always keen ; and undisturbed are thy passions. 
And thy judgements are calm. In these I do find a solace. 
Now tell me dost thou believe in mortal fate? For surely. 
This writing doth bear upon the future. And if so. Where 
comth the letters? 

Fate! Fate! Vivian. That is just what it is. Fate. Thy 
fate. My fate. And written by the hand of the gods of 
fortune with their pen of destiny. 

Upon this moment. Their brains were swathing in mys- 
teries. Their thought bent towards the fateful. For their 
understanding was not keen. 

Vivian thou dost ever delve deep into the realms of scien- 
tific studies. And too. I well know that the wisdom of the 
Sages doth verse thy mind. I prythee what of this wisdom? 

Alack! Catherine my thoughts only serve to confuse my 
mind this moment. My limbs tremble like one possessed of 
palsy. Verily do I believe. The fate of mortal is scribed 
by the gods’ hand. They scribe it with their mighty pen of 
destiny and in strokes which become sunk into the tablet of 
mortal’s fame. And. When these gods scribe. Vengeance or 
reward the mortal remains helpless. And can but serve their 
command. 

Again a fearful silence fell upon the two companions. 

The blue eyes of Lady Catherine lustreless changed into 
an expression of mysterious sorrow blazing forth with sud- 
den passion. She gently drew Lady Vivian’s head upon her 
shoulder. 

And in close sympathy they remained. There was an in- 
exhaustible abundance of hidden meaning. Anxieties were 
vanished and sentiments of sweeter vision were struck upon 
the chords of their loving hearts. 

And the Egyptian King was announced by Mordane. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Lady Vivian Daughter To The King. 

And Goethe would make the gods speak in their own large 
utterance. 

Trembling hope led Lady Vivian into the literary Con- 
gress. This morning, the morning after her visit to Lady 
Catherine’s art chapel. A new light flowed from her fresh 
inspiring face. A visible. An anxious doubt rested upon 
her. She tabulated the conventional rules that governed 


60 


A Princess of the Orient 


this congress. She well knew the daughter to the King 
would so offend the dignity of the Egyptian people were she 
to sit with the common assembly within their literary Con- 
gress. She also knew that the royal society would remain 
aghast. Such a demeanor would put her in scandal. And 
she drew her face covering more closely, thus covering her 
face as she entered the congress. Young men in greatest 
numbers attended regularly this congress. Some found it a 
convenient place to spend their leisure hours and to pleas- 
antly learn of the conduct and of the practice of social ele- 
gance. Greater men, there were who daily assembled as 
regularly with courage, with energy to make an arduous 
study of the government of the country. 

There were also, in attendance. Aged men, who having 
attained the good age wherein light pleasures failed to sat- 
isfy them and too. Their usefulness in any active part in 
the government of their country. Were there in compromis- 
ing their efforts with scientific studies. Such as astronomy. 
They spent assiduously countless hours in delving into the 
beliefs of the future life and all that which pertained to the 
life beyond. Even the aged soothsayers, the most familiar 
sight to be found within the temples in celebrations and in 
ceremonies were there hovering in clusters. Perchance. To 
impart some wisdom, newly gained. And perchance to give 
greetings vied by their wits. In all. The congress was 
open to men who had a thirst of knowledge. A woman had 
never been known to enter therein. For in Egypt. Woman 
remained bound by such formalities that which held her 
fast in the grip of slavedom. 

Lady Vivian with her mind alert, would seek to free wo- 
man from these bonds. 

She hesitated as she reached the congress chapel upon 
this special day. 

Now. Canterre had been acquitted many days previous 
and had but the day before been appointed President of the 
congress. This chair he accepted graciously. 

However, Lady Vivian had not known of his appointment 
to this position. 

As she entered the chapel, Canterre met her. Greetings 
Lady Vivian! I bid thee enter. Thou indeed art most wel- 
come. 

Canterre! And Lady Vivian’s voice was but a startled 
stammer. She extended her hand. In a most confusing 
manner for she was indeed quite surprised. 


A Princess of the Orient 


61 


Canterre. I that is. Art thou here in the capacity of 
President. 

I prythee, my dear Lady Vivian. This is indeed a most 
pleasant surprise. The King. Thy noble father has hon- 
oured me with this appointment. 

And speaking thus Canterre bowed ceremonously. 

The King has made thee President? I prythee when did 
he make this appointment? 

I assumed my duties yesternday Lady Vivian. 

Lady Vivian faltered. She was confused and now, a 
newer strain of thought caused her to be disturbed. 

Would Canterre think. That she came to the Congress to 
greet him? 

She turned to go but he smilingly laid his hand upon her 
arm. 

I beg of thee Lady Vivian. Do not go. Thou hast but 
entered. Thou art surely welcome. Thou art as welcome as 
the courtiers. Do not go I prythee. 

As Canterre bent closer over Lady Vivian she slyly 
glanced into his eyes. A pair of ardent eyes. How his 
glance thrilled her very soul. She felt her own heart’s throb 
as never before had she felt it. And she answered him. 

I thank thee Canterre. 

Canterre’s face brightened with a smile of joy. Lady 
Vivian make thy own researches. I gladly will assist thee. 
If by any suggestion I may do so. Rather. It would be 
befitting for such as I to learn of thee. For Nature has not 
so endowed my mind with glorious abilities. 

I thank thee. I come to seek knowledge that of a vital 
knowledge to me. And. In so coming I well know I offend 
the dignity of my people as well as do I scandalize all con- 
ventional forms of society of Egyptian custom. It has been 
all, too wisely spoken that life is an unconventional universi- 
ty for all men alike and a conventional school for all women. 
In the light of these customs of our countrymen, and the in- 
stincts most inherent in the hearts and in the minds of all, 
gentle Sir. I do assume a most unlawful liberty in coming 
into this assembly. 

And so, my dear Lady Vivian. Thou dost employ. Too 
strictly. Such groundless fear. 

But Canterre. Rememberst thou, the sages have spoken. 
“That curiosity hath filled the soul of woman unto her own 
destruction.” 


62 


A Princess of the Orient 


I have oft times heard the sentiments so versed by the 
sooth sayer, my dear. 

Then. Hearst thou me. Canterre. The sooth sayers have 
spoken thus in greater wisdom, in a truth. “Unrivaled wis- 
dom seasoned with radiant melody without shadow into a 
great understanding, hath filled the soul of woman.” 

I may suggest that this philosophy is the only coax that 
which has snared me hence, into this Congress. I feel my 
people, the society of convention will have to pardon such 
an offense coming from the daughter to their King. 

While she was speaking, Canterre studied her face. 

The purport of her visit effected her with determined will. 
Yet. She stood there before Canterre with the grace of a 
flower. She spake with the spontaneity of a bird’s free 
song. And he feasted upon her beautiful face. 

Methinks Lady Vivian. The congress chapel doth wear a 
new charm now, that thou art here. I prythee, thou art at 
liberty to delve into all the classics. Into the laws and into 
every science contained, therein. 

He pointed his finger to the immense book cases. 

Gracious thanks Canterre. And so graciously did she 
smile upon him. Then. She reclined herself before a huge 
case of books. Diligently she searched. At last she found 
one volume, bearing the title of Laws. Not alone did she 
begin to feel this a pleasant occasion. Rather. Did she ex- 
perience this liberal excellence of being permitted to open 
this great case of books. And to delve into their pages. She 
felt this to be a goodly indulgence upon conventionality! 
She was delighted with this opportunity. And she began her 
searching study. After a few moments she found the one 
volume for which she was searching. It was the laws which 
had been voted upon and passed during the last sitting of 
the Council. With a studied care she read the index of this 
Journal of laws, wherein all the amendments were compiled. 
A few of these laws before their passing. She had heard 
argued from the desks of the law makers, in the council 
chamber. Where she had attended, with the permission of 
the King. At this session the reading of the bills, their 
amendments, the arguments. Rather discussions. That 
which the various committees. The resolutions of joint 
committees and in fact the entire procedure of the consist- 
ory now. She recalled as she carefully scanned the pages 
more. Enfin, she found the page containing the law en- 
titled Act of The Jew. No. 586. This was the law for 


A Princess of the Orient 


63 


which she was searching. The substance of same summon- 
ized was “No Jew will be permitted to sit in the Consistory 
of Cairo.” 

Lady Vivian copied this law. Its number. The exact 
title. And she slipped the parchment into a bag which she 
carried upon her arm. 

It was quiet evident that she felt disconcerted. Her eyes 
seached the faces of the scholars, round and near her bench. 
Quite unconsciously and by an invisible force of attraction, 
her eyes became fastened upon a magnificent statue of 
blackest iron. It was standing foremost in this chapel. 
However, she had not noticed it before this moment. A 
statue of Themis! The Egyptian goddess of Justice. Bear- 
ing upon its base these ivored letters that stood out. “Man’s 
Intellect May Rise and Climb from Art to Art.” 

This inscription thwarted her mind very much. A feel- 
ing of keen resentment blazed upon her. And her eyes 
flashed resentment. 

Canterre as he sat studying the face of Lady Vivian with 
closest interest. He plainly detected the impatient anger 
that which passed over her face. He stepped before her. 
For she arose to leave the chapel. 

Lady Vivian, thou art finished in thy research studies? 

I thank thee, Canterre. The hour becomes late and later 
my coming, for the King. My father he doth await me. 

Ah! but thou didst wax impatient but this moment. I 
perceived it in the glance of those lovely eyes Lady Vivian, 
responded Canterre. 

Quite true, Canterre. Thy eye is quicke to discern. I 
felt a keen resentment as I read the verse oracle-scribed up- 
on the banner of Themis. That is because it is strange and 
quite a revelation to me. I may consent unto thee, that I 
am not friendly to it. Me thinks it elucidates man’s Mea of 
woman’s inferiority in this realm of letters. It savagely de- 
nies woman within this realm. Man’s idea is mirrored. That 
the domain of woman is not measured in the school of 
letters. It is falsely honoured, Canterre. 

I quite readily consent to thy judgement. Lady Vivian. 
For I can recall a verse oracle uttered by one of our greatest 
and most finished scholars. “That it is intellect that which 
first makes the abstract idea of a true universal idea: and 
philosophizing thus, we are pressed with the belief that a 
tabulated worth of the intellect of man and of woman 
measure alike.” 


64 


A Princess of the Orient 


Canterre. O kind Sir! Thou dost indeed speak with a 
free tongue. Thou art surely of the French, thou dost 
speak widely and very foreign. The Egyptian doth hold 
that man rulth and that woman amusth. 

Ah! Lady Vivian I do verily believe this of the Egyp- 
tian. His mind is fettered with this dominant law. And 
my mind doth serve to lead me hence into a much different 
peut-Hre a wider channel. Me thinks a greater understand- 
ing of the times has come upon me. Thy people are wont to 
acknowledge for their own people. This grand old aristoc- 
racy, to employ their own phrase. 

My dear Lady Vivian I have read in some classic that the 
institutional legend connects the intellect of man with the 
greatest power of the world, and the same legend connects 
the intellect of woman directly with the mythological inci- 
dents which counts only as coming from the toyshop of the 
world. 

Canterre, thy words art kindly spoken. They are well 
chosen upon the ears of a woman. I appreciate thy wide 
justice. 

Lady Vivian I deem it a sad misfortune that I remain 
unable to illucidate the true opinion of great men and to 
expel the false opinion of lesser men, in the position they 
take towards woman. I speak for all womankind, because 
thou art of woman. The highest heralder of the sweetest. 
Thou, art indeed a noble woman. With a good purport for 
all noble minds come endowed with goodly purpose. Their 
every thought a jewel, rare and pure. A fair blossom of 
sweet fragrance. 

Canterre spake so elegantly and Lady Vivian pink with 
blushes turned abruptly to go. Without lifting her eyes, 
which rested upon the floor she responded to him in gentle 
voice. 

Canterre the hour is late. Too late for me to remain 
longer. I must bide thee good-day. 

And Canterre could detain her no more. He clasped her ex- 
tended hand tenderly. He gazed passionately into her large 
glowing eyes. For a moment they stood thus. And there is 
perfume in the silence of pure love ! 

Lady Vivian thou wilt deny me? Mayst I come this 
night to greet thee? 

Canterre, the King doth wish me with his guests to-night. 
To-night the royal Scribes from the foreign Provinces are 
feasting within the palace. I would do much violence unto 


A Princess of the Orient 


65 


the King were I to absent myself upon such a stately occa- 
sion. I frankly tell thee, I am disappointed because of it. 

A shadow of disappointment clouded his face. 

But Canterre, tomorrow at the Bath. We go at mid-day. 

I thank thee Lady Vivian. I await the morrow’s mid-day 
with greatest impatience for Father Time. 

Until tomorrow’s midday! 

Lady Vivian left the chapel without another word and 
Canterre returned to his bench. His eyes fell upon the 
open volume that which lay open upon a shelf before him. 
And just as Lady Vivian had left it. 

He took the volume. Therein he read. No. 586 Entitled 
Act of the Jews. 

He read more. No Jew will be permitted to sit in the 
consistory of Egypt. 

Then hastily he closed the book. He knitted his brow in 
deep study. Could Lady Vivian come as an accomplice to 
some mean motive? 

Suddenly he straightened his shoulders squarely, he threw 
back his head. Never! She came to seek the knowledge of 
this Act, for a great and goodly cause. He would not ques- 
tion it more. It remained closed to doubt. 

Ah! Lady Vivian, darling of the great gods, so fair! I 
love thee. Thou hast lit the torch of Love. Within my 
Soul and left it burning there! 

CHAPTER IX. 

Sweet Idleness. 

UAmitie est V amour sans Ailes! 

{And Love without his pinion smiled on Youth!) 

A French Proverb. 

A small drove of Asses. Spotted. Full laden with skins 
of wine came into the Feiyoom grove. They were halted by 
the merry youths gathering for one of their celebrated fun- 
fests. It is well to say. These fun-fests given in Cairo, in 
the open were great festivals for even the old as well as the 
young. 

Frolicsome youths pithely relieved the skins from off the 
Asses. They assorted them and placed them near the shel- 
tered piazzas. In these rustic piazzas, the wine was to be 
served upon this occasion. The clearing morning sun made 
the fields roseate. The trees, the groves. A true, the orig- 
inal Aurora with blue robed, yellow gowned sylphs. She 
awakened the slumbers of the silvered robed nymphs, as 
they lay in slumbers dewed in sparkling drops. The pinkest 


66 


A Princess of the Orient 


blush of the morning’s sky softened the harshest outlines of 
every object within the vision of the eye. Romance the 
famed parent des-reves d’or had strewn the fields with bits 
of fragments of love, had incensed the earth with the breathe 
of love. Merry laughter to gladden glad hearts in this pic- 
turesque garden of pleasures. 

Fair maids, steep thy locks into the Jessamine jugs. Per- 
fume thy robes with the attar of the roses. Girdle. Adorn 
thyself with not alone the noble crimson scarlet but with Na- 
ture’s colours bright and glorious. 

To-day youth doth make a rainbow of the everywhere 
and the Sylva is, presented with its flaunting colours. That 
all eyes may behold its glories, that all may know there art 
pleasures everywhere. 

Maidens wear thy colours bounteously. The white for 
happy youth, wear red thy love to prove. 

Come daughters, girt thyself with delights for this may 
be the votaries of the Muses. It may be the gods’ pleasure 
given thee to-day. 

Apart from the gathering Lady Vivian with Lady 
Catherine were standing. 

Vivian let us recline upon this grand old historic piazza. 
Behold the graceful grape. How it clings and how it 
grasps for a wider range to shape its sturdy-vine. The 
leaves. How perfect in their tracing, how true their colours 
of warm Nature. The etching of Nature is more perfect 
than the Artist’s Crayon. 

Lady Catherine stood close to the old vine, tracing its 
leaves with her slender finger. This leaf she admired, that 
one was rich in colour. Another of an artist’s design. 

But Lady Vivian stood apart. 

Catherine I can not behold any tracing of art in this 
twisted, awkard vine. How bent it is with age and how it 
bears disfigurement from the tares of idle passersby. 

Fie. Vivian! Thy mind is truly unyielding, not to note 
this art in Nature. 

But Catherine why discomfort ourselves in the musty pi- 
azza. It is fitly for the unsightly worms and for the horrible 
bugs to shelter. To find their substance therein. 

And speaking thus Lady Vivian drew her silken shawl 
round her shoulders with an impatient gesture. 

Vivian couldst thou behold! What a picture. The bright 
yellow of thy robe, the vivid, deepest blue of thy silken 


A Princess of the Orient 


67 


shawl against the rich green of this vine. A picture to 
marvel ! 

Catherine I am already chilled with the gloom. The 
bugs they do irritate me. The homely worms writhe into 
a perfect torment for me. The wizen plants are horrid. 
What. I pry thee dost thou find in such a dismal place? 

Dearest companion, sorely dost thou lack appreciation of 
true art. This piazza doth charm me most wonderfully. 
How it doth wear its natural beauty. Everything. Every 
twig of the twisted vine swings with the grace of the zephyr. 

Catherine I can detect no airy creature. Neither a wood- 
nymph lingering in its trail. I can hear no song bird warb- 
ling sonnets in its leaves. Come I prythee let us go into 
yon grove. There the peasants are dancing upon the green. 
It is the open air enjoyment, the sunny sports which are ex- 
uberant. For there. The faint heart doth throb in its 
may-day. The song thrush sings her carol and the birds all 
sip of the fresh mead. And Bacchus and Venus go hand in 
hand. There is delight! 

Lady Catherine with some hesitancy arose from her 
bench beneath the old grape-vine and with a disappointed 
glance about her, she followed Lady Vivian into the open 
green. 

There the gay peasants were dancing. This was a quaint 
picture. Indeed. The gay flashing colours of the peasant 
maidens robes, the trim suits of the peasant youths as they 
danced upon the square of green. 

Lady Vivian beheld in each dancer some individual grace. 
A dainty grace, and even a modest dignity. She beheld the 
youth gushing with fresh joy and, exhilarated with merri- 
ment. 

Alas! For Lady Catherine sought these same graces. 
But she found naught. They wore unsightly robes of coarse 
stuffs of the most offensive colours. They were awkard. 
They danced with a clumsiness akin to a vulgarity. She 
detected no exhilaration of glad youth in their gestures. This 
wild enthusiasm that intoxicated the dancers and charmed 
Lady Vivian was to her but a fanaticism void of chartn. 
Void of colour. 

Lady Catherine stood watching the dancers. She turned 
to her companion. Dear, come let us recline ourselves upon 
this bench if we are indeed to be held here to watch these 
amusements. But I think it is foolish. 

Catherine, I prythee do not be so serious. Cannot the 


68 


A Princess of the Orient 


bright and the happy faces of the gay peasants please thee? 
How they do dance. They trip here and there upon the 
green. Their shapely barefeet touch the green carpet so 
lightly. Behold how they drink the open air. How they 
whirl in bright glee! 

But, I find no charm in them, responded Lady Catherine. 

Dear companion, can we do less than the gods? For it 
is the gods who divine the charm of dancing. Recallst thou 
the god who descended upon the dancing Princess and 
crowned her queen of the fairies? So dainty were her steps. 
Her bare limbs shapely and white. Her feet so nimble with 
grace. Her dancing charmed the gods. And can we do 
less? 

Upon my faith, my companion. What fairy tales! I 
came out of my nursery rhymes before this day. And fairy 
tales I long have ceased to relish. 

Suddenly, they were abruptly checked in this conversa- 
tion. 

A rose bud fell squarely upon the bench upon which they 
were seated. 

They turned and they beheld a pretty peasant girl danc- 
ing with M. Theron. 

Lady Vivian. There is Theron. It is he surely and what 
boldness. The peasant girl flung this rose bud upon us. 

So did the girl, answered Lady Vivian. She did it in a 
spirit of fun. 

Vivian thou art indeed, kindly liberal. For myself I 
think the girl most vulgar. I do not deem it fitly. Either. 
That the Prince Governor should dance in a public dance 
upon the green and with a peasant girl. 

Catherine, why such a sentiment? I know of no reason 
why Theron should not dance with whom his fancy chooses. 

With Rubyat? The daughter to the pigeon fancier? And 
not alone in a public square but in thy presence? And Lady 
Catherine’s eyes were riveted upon this pair in the distance 
as they danced. 

Catherine it remains uninteresting to me. I think the girl 
a pretty dancer. Upon my faith, she is as pretty as a fresh- 
ly plucked rose from the garden. It would be quite a pleas- 
ant novelty to dance upon the green. At any time. I 
trowth we are denied much, Catherine dear. 

Vivian thou would never dare to dance upon the green? 
The King? 

Nay Catherine. I prythee thou art not in any ill humour 


A Princess of the Orient 


69 


with thy companion? Not upon such an occasion. Come. 
The day is cheery. 

But Vivian thou wouldst not dance here? Continued 
Lady Catherine. 

Dance? Nay Catherine. I would not dance. In speak- 
ing of Theron. He is a public spirited man. We may say a 
political man and are not the peasants of Cairo, too? Does 
Theron not belong to all clans in the city? 

If thou dost so wish to think, Vivian, answered she impa- 
tiently. 

Dear, parfois this peasant girl is a lover. Too. Of this 
Rubyat, who can deny it? 

And at this the conversation was in a lull. And the la- 
dies remained watching the dancers. 

Next the gay dancers danced a gavotte. And upon this 
instance M. Theron approached Lady Vivian. Upon the 
approach of M. Theron, Lady Catherine turned away and 
Lady Vivian was alone. 

I am charmed Vivian to greet thee. Ah! the morning is 
not half so fair as thee, my dear. 

I thank thee Theron. The day is a glorious one. A 
sense, O sublime, of something far more deeply than these 
merriments, betake my mind. The music of Nature that sur- 
rounds me here this sunny morning. In the living air, my 
thoughts take on forms of beings. Each being a thing of 
beauty. A creature of desire. 

Liken unto the music of the fields, dearest Vivian, be- 
come thy voice. 

Ah! Theron, but behold how quaintly. How prettily the 
peasants dance. 

And the sweet manner of Lady Vivian charmed him 
more. He seated himself upon the rustic bench, sitting 
close beside her. 

Vivian how much longer am I to suffer for my rash act? 
That of bearing the Persian Princess into Cairo? 

Theron. Suffering? Why shouldst thou suffer in thy 
mind? I know it not. I trowth thy mission in bearing Prin- 
cess Roxana here into Cairo is only answerable unto thy- 
self alone. As for the Princess, an adorable creature. I 
like her much. She is a superb woman and she loves thee 
much. Theron, I prythee no offense. But. Knowing thee 
well. I fear this maiden doth love thee too much. Knowing 
thy Nature to betray the heart that loves thee, most. 

Theron winced under her stinging words. 


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A Princess of the Orient 


Vivian I know no wit in thy feigned witticism. Thou well 
knowst, that I didst bear the Princess into Egypt because of 
political reasons. I do not love her. 

Now. Theron thou dost assign this delivery to political 
reasons? Fie! 

My dear Vivian thou dost surely know from the King’s 
counsel. That our city needs obtain the assistance of the 
Persian Shah in the silken industry. Much. Perhaps every- 
thing depends upon it. This channel of commerce which 
may link Egypt closely with Persia, measures everything to 
Egypt’s expansion in this Commercial industry. 

Shame! A thousand scandals! Theron I blush for thee. 
Thy words are but mere bickerings. Light. They are un- 
wisely spoken for they serve alone to faint the pleasure of 
this pretty gavotte in the place of merry pleasures. I pry- 
thee, speak no more of it in my presence. 

An intense anger flushed the face of Lady Vivian. But 
Theron would not be silenced. 

Vivian thou hast many days denied me. Thou can not 
misunderstand my motive. The diplomacy that which I 
seek to employ for my country’s own gain. And which is 
much needed at this critical time. 

Theron. There are countless reasons why I censor thee. 
Not alone in this base trick of decoying the unsuspecting 
Princess into Cairo. It remains an unworthy step for the 
Prince Governor of Cairo to advance. It remains no diplom- 
acy, in any measure. Thou must surely be dizzy with vile 
deeds. The most unworthy deeds. 

The Prince Governor snatched the free hand of Lady 
Vivian and rudely he held her. 

Vivian thou dost refer to my feasts and to the chariot 
races? 

Not alone Theron. Those lesser pleasures even though 
mingled with the uncultured, the reckless do not serve to 
blacken thy name so black. As this, thy newest act. It is 
very unbecoming and very bold. A bold stroke because it 
comes from the Prince Governor. 

My dear not another word. Please! And Theron looked 
distressed. But she continued. 

Of all I have heard of the Persian Shah. Naught can 
ever be gained by influence of this lovely daughter. This 
dangerous daughter! It is indeed a poorly, an unwise dip- 
lomat. He who plunges into so fast a hard play with the 
heart of a woman. 


A Princess of the Orient 


71 


Vivian this. These words and phrases are so unlike thee. 

Nay Theron to me it is all closed. Between thee and me. 
Our friendship is done. 

I will not have it so, Vivian. I refuse my ear to any such 
words. Now, thou art but in a mad burst of anger. 

Dearest Vivian thou didst love me. I will not believe 
that thou dost not love me now. 

Theron. It was but a passing fancy. Unworthy of the 
name of love. For when the heart of a woman is given in 
true love. There is no fire than can famish that love. Like- 
wise when that heart is bruised there is no balm to heal it. 

And quicker than a flash from the skies, but mostly liken 
a flash from the angry skies. Lady Vivian arose. She 
walked away. She disappeared among the gay pleasure 
seekers. 

Theron took one step to follow her but she was lost to 
him. Then he turned back again, seating himself upon the 
empty bench. He sat bent in thought, his head upon his 
chest. His eyes glaring hard upon the grassy plot beneath 
his feet. 

“My Love!” As these words broke upon him, a pair of 
soft arms were clasped around his neck. Then he lifted his 
eyes into the rosy laughing face of Rubyat. 

My love, she continued caressing him and warmly kissing 
his hands, his cheeks, his forehead. 

The royal lady, Theron. I heard all, everything she said 
to thee. I stood there behind this pillar of stone. I hid 
myself for I wanted to hear every word. 

Rubyat my child. Surely thou would attempt not to do 
such a rash deed? 

Ah! I pry thee do not be angry with me. I love thee so. 
Oh, so much! Better than the flowers love the sunshine. 
More. Much more than the birds love the fragrance of 
the flowers. My prince! The royal lady, she hurt thee, 
much. I could kill her. Kill her with a merry heart, my 
love. 

And little Rubyat, her pretty sunny face transformed into 
the face of a murderess. Lined with shadows of most tragic 
and awful thoughts. Then, her face softened as she stooped 
again, kissing the forehead of Theron. 

Rubyat be thou quiet. Thou must not speak so of the 
daughter to the King, 

Yea. Theron I will dare. I care not if she be daughter 


72 


A Princess of the Orient 


to the King. I repeat to thee. I hate her! I hate her! And 
just because she hurt thee, my love. 

Theron arose. He took the chubby little hands of Ruby- 
at, holding them firmly in his hands. He spake sternly. 
Most severely to her. 

Rubyat thou must now leave me. Remember it is com- 
ing late, thy father, he will be wanting thee. 

Then my father can wait, pouted the girl. 

Now Rubyat. Pay heed to me. Go now, for I too must 
go. lam wanted in the court, shortly. 

Then my love, I will go if thou dost so command me. No, 
I will not go, unless thou dost promise me that thou will 
come to-night. Come my love to the far pomegranite fields. 
Meet me at our favorite meeting place by the bay. 

The childish manner Of Rubyat irritated Theron. 

Nay, I can not come to-night, Rubyat. 

Then, I will never go home, answered Rubyat stubbornly. 

Theron knew the girl stood in a stubborn mood. 

Well, Rubyat I will come. Now quicken thy steps. The 
hours grows late and mark ye, my child. Be very cautious 
in crossing the bridge over the river for the mist is now soon 
rising from the Nile. 

Rubyat threw her arms around his neck. She kissed him 
in the warmth of youth. Then with a mischievous toss of 
her head she shook her pretty curls. She ran away lightly, 
with the grace of a fawn. 

But. As she turned Theron saw tears streaming down 
her rosy face. 

And Rubyat with unfaltering steps sped on towards her 
home, with a pitiful longing and a nameless dread. 

CHAPTER X. 

The Shepherd. 

The Central Consistory sitting in making the abolition of 
the Jew. Found themselves judging the Jew from the worn 
traditional standards. So common to the people of the 
country of Egypt. Their sentiments so manifested them- 
selves that upon this sitting, the unanimous vote of the Con- 
sistory was to forever abolish the Jew from their lands. They 
feared the mercenary purports of the Jew. They held them 
in an unadmirable light, this probably because of their, 
shadowy traditions which hung over them so strongly. And 
some of the leaders feared the Jewish prophets. These 
much talked of prophets were found wandering in the most 
desolate parts, as well as the populated lands throughout 


A Princess of the Orient 


73 


the whole country of Egypt. They were met upon every 
turn of affairs. 

Many of the Egyptians especially those of the physic 
scholars and these were numerable at this period in Egypt. 
Believed these men to be developed by their manner of liv- 
ing. It was reputed of them. That they would make long 
sojourns into solitary places. They would feast. They would 
bring physical torments upon themselves. They were known 
to roll in short thorns in the heated season. In the colder 
weather they would bathe themselves in the half frozen 
rivers. This, they would accomplish upon the hour of mid- 
night. Did their belief develope their power of discernment? 
Were they really endowed with the crowning power of prop- 
hecy? 

Nevertheless it was becoming widely known these Jewish 
prophets were much sought. They seemed to possess the 
faculty of seeing visions. This was counted their greatest 
agent. They could heal the sick. In the terror of the 
ophthalmia, that which swept with such disaster, the whole 
of Egypt. They healed many cases. 

It seemed impossible for the Egyptian prophets to work 
with the Jewish prophets. There were as many Egyptian 
prophets in Eg5^t. 

The time was at hand for action against or for the Jew. 
The one great perplexing question to the Consistory; would 
it be more dangerous to expel them from their lands? Would 
it be more dangerous to make them partners. Rather. 
Parties of the land? 

There was a strengthening, a continual commercial antag- 
onism between the Jew and the Egyptian. And to such an 
extent that fear was excited for a commercial loss to the 
country. Already it was felt. They were estimated to be 
thousands of Jews living in misery. A number inhabited the 
extensive labyrinths of the catacombs beneath the city. A 
goodly number resided in the best part of Cairo. 

At the sitting of the Consistory this day. The sitting was 
finished with heated arguments. The heaviest vote con- 
ceded to the Jew. This had been learned to be the wish 
of the King. 

A compromise was effected. Whereby the Jew could live 
within Egyptian borders. 

This would necessitate making one member of the Con- 
sistory a Jew. And to many this was a precarious arrange- 
ment. It was much feared. The Consistory ruling this 


74 


A Princess of the Orient 


compromise permitted the Jew since he remained within 
Egyptian borders. To become joint ruler of Cairo. 

The day following the occasion of the morning court sit- 
ting was the Jew member of the Consistory being sworn by 
the judicial oath. This oath. It must be known was altered 
by the omission of the words. Under the jurisdiction of our 
gods of Justice and mighty rule. 

The question of the currency then arose. It was at last 
decided thus. The Jew being upon a commercial basis with 
the Egyptian. The Egyptian coin so embellished with the 
heraldic eagle upon the thunderbolt was equivalent to the 
Jewish silver coin. This coin was as artistically ornamented 
with their native lily. 

This was the new measure adopted in the Consistory. It 
was progressive. It was profitable. And it would thereby, 
strengthen Egypt very much, in newer enterprises. 

Canterre being present at this sitting, understood the 
value of the method by which Lady Vivian had gained this 
new measure. It was through the voice of the people. And 
she had labored with a secret hope, for weeks. 

The shepherds remained a part of Egypt. And Lady 
Vivian felt gratified to learn this news. 

Upon this same time. The aged Jew who the lady 
Vivian found wounded and homeless in the public park, lay 
exhaustibly ill. Within his new quarters. Lady Vivian hav- 
ing secured the most skillful physicians in Cairo to attend 
upon him. Daily she visited the sick chamber, bearing 
flowers and savory dishes to cheer him in his helpless condi- 
tion. And he felt no longer lonely. A newer flood of light 
wrapped his whole being. Each visit of Lady Vivian’s bore 
a fresh joy to him. 

Her mercies so sweetly flowing, mellowed him. His eye 
was not so hard and critical. His ear heard more sweetness. 
His mouth was not held with hard lips. 

Lady Vivian marveled at the transformed face of the Jew. 
She did not know that he saw a more beautiful life. Now. 
She was wholly unconscious, that she had transformed his 
life. 

And his mind was too sick to search for the real cause of 
her charitable act. 

But. He was a Jew. And the Jew, was he unfit? He 
was worthy. 


A Princess of the Orient 


75 


CHAPTER XI. 

The Tax. 

The Privy Council was presided over by the Prince Gov- 
ernor. 

The figure of taxation which the Privy Council had im- 
posed upon the people was enormously bold. Nevertheless. 
Upon an examination of the tax department. The Privy 
Council found much deficient money. So they set about to 
offer the land holders in and near Cairo, a pointed discount. 
If they would give immediate response, by paying their three 
years taxes in advance. In yearly installments. Even so. 
At a close figure they offered to cut the installments into 
semi-annually or into monthly payments. There was this 
desperate need of money. Such a sacrifice monthly of re- 
venue was the greatest advantage to the land holders. Like- 
wise it meant suicide to the Government of Cairo. 

This bold policy had been employed before this time in 
Cairo. And so the leaders questioned. Did their Prince 
Governor direct a diplomatic measure? 

The tax money being collected he had arranged to place 
the money within the banking house of Cairo. Unknown to 
the people. Whereas the active tradesmen, the business men, 
the bondsmen were to receive it in turn after the vast distri- 
bution. 

The Treasury department through the Privy Council an- 
nounced the all too worn policy. That if the people of 
Cairo would not support the Prince Governor M. Theron, 
the Treasury would make an immediate call for this money. 
In this they would help to force his election. Albeit. They 
arose one other perplexing problem. 

The Privy Council. Its power strengthened by the 
Prince Governor must make all its reports, after their func- 
tionaries examine the reports, to the ^^edive. And some of 
these functionaries were of the village Sheykhs. 

Quite a goodly number of this village of Sheykhs were se- 
cretly friendly to Canterre. And quite a number more of re- 
cent date were becoming friendly to Canterre. This wholly 
unknown to the Privy Council. 

Would the hub of this corrupt political wheel be broken 
in the coming election? 

For it hubbed the people of Cairo murderously. Too 
wickedly. And the thinking men, the good men of Cairo 
spake one to the other. May the tax collector become a 


76 


A Princess of the Orient 

citron biber in the vineyards of Feiyoom, whilst the com- 
mon poor hunger for a crust? 

Now hanging within the chapel of Canterre. Upon its 
front walls was this motto. 

“When we love the truly good and adapt ourselves to 
their looks and manners and this even with the loss of 
worldly prosperity, then we are really getting on in goodness 
ourselves.” — Plutarch. 

The radical supporters of the Prince Governor derided the 
authority of the law of humanity in this motto. Still. It 
bore its weight upon them with an undisguised impress. 
Some questioned. But they continued to press forward 
with their corrupt policies. All conscientious scruples were 
cauterized with the irons of corruption. 

Canterre so recently having gained great favour with 
the King and greater favour with a large majority of the 
people stood a strong man. He had won his laurels in 
many fields. He was fearless in maintaining his opinion 
and individually, he was labouring strenuously to stay the 
progress of the plague of corruption. His name cast lustre 
in the vigorous struggles of the good people. His followers 
define him as being. Thought developed. His language like 
his look. Rapid, full of life. Naturally eloquent. 

His aquiline nose was overhung by a strongly marked 
brow knit, often in deep lines of thought. His eloquent 
style of expression was clear. It was forcible. His party 
discerned a moral earnestness and an elevation in him. 
While the Prince Governor M. Theron’s followers were 
heard at times to speak in satire, calling him by name. The 
madly brave. 

His deportment was grave, was measured. Likewise his 
address was bland, he was gracious with every one. He so 
surely conveyed an intellect clear. Direct. Because he per- 
mitted no opinion to float languidly in his understanding, 
holding his belief with an intense earnestness of conviction. 
And with it all he was prompt. He was resolute in carrying 
his conviction into ready action. 

Plainly. The opposing parties feared him. They knew. 
They were met with a strong political situation. On this 
situation Canterre would engage a dauntless unfaltering 
faith in the justice of any cause, as well as employing the 
excellent wisdom found in him. This wisdom that he had 
acquired by close, by ardent study, by direct experience. 

He seemed the man for this office. Unless by some sud- 


A Princess of the Orient 


77 


den. Some hidden stroke of the machine. He would be 
elected by the people. He had international experience. He 
possessed knowledge of municipal affairs. This made him 
a valuable man. He stood strong with the common. The 
utility commissions, the chamber of commerce. The educa- 
tional boards. And he was the leader of this great reforma- 
tion. The greatest reformation that which had ever touched 
upon the people of Cairo. 

For. The whole of Cairo were calling for a better under- 
standing. Rather than a continued blind mercy, as was 
covering Cairo at the present time. 

The Princess Roxana upon this certain time of the day. 
Amid the wild excitement of the busy city without. Sat 
reclined lanquidly in her luxurious apartments. 

She was indeed lovely in her robe of blue satin embroid- 
ered with sapphires. Agate stones. Her long glossy black 
hair hung in loose braids. 

She sat toying with a pearl cask which she wore suspended 
upon a thread of gold. And as a wristband. 

As she reclined in this meditation. The large door lead- 
ing into her chamber from the hall opened. The velvet dra- 
peries parted. And the Prince Governor— M. Theron entered 
her reading chamber. 

She lifted her eyes as the footstep fell upon her. Then. 
She rushed forward. To greet him. While he almost with 
an indifference, responded to her greeting. 

Theron, I am delighted to greet thee. I but this hour 
have wished for thy coming. Come, recline thyself ; and of 
thyself? What hast this day brought to thee? Do thy 
followers bear unto thee any great news of the coming elec- 
tion? Theron to-day of all the days, it has seemed more 
heavy. An unhidden gloom spread over me and I have 
been unrestful. 

As the Princess spake thus. Theron drew closer to her, 
reclining himself by her side. He gently took her hand in 
his hands. And as he spoke, he looked deeply into her up- 
lifted eyes. 

Princess thou should not be lonely, my dear. Here. In 
all these luxuries. And in excellent health. This beautiful 
apartment doth make a fitly frame for the picture of thy 
beautiful image. With every luxury to please thee. With 
slaves to attend upon thee, in thy every wish. Upon my 
faith, dear, why art thou not happy? Then. Is their a 
sentiment for thy people eating thy heart out? I deem this 


78 A Princess of the Orient 

a most natural sentiment. But come. My sweet Princess 
let us forget all loneliness. Let us be glad. 

Theron caressed the Princess and it pleased her. Then 
her happy face become clouded again. 

Theron. Nay, not that Theron. Yet I cannot under- 
stand this weird unrest which clings to me. My mind is 
troubled. In truth, Theron. I fear I am most unhappy, 
responded she as she drooped her head upon her chest. 

My dear Princess. Dear one, perhaps thou art homesick? 
Wouldst thou return unto thy father and thy people? 

Theron. I prythee. I dare not think of my return into 
my old home. 

But, as Theron beheld the tears glistening in her eyes he 
understood. 

My sweet Princess. Come. Let us not dwell upon these 
thoughts. Yestern-days are gone and we know them not. 
Ah! but to-night, alone belongs to us. 

And the Princess looked up at Theron through her tears. 
And smiled. 

Theron fondly embraced her. 

Princess I prythee hast thou been to visit the Coffee Shop? 

Yea. Theron these several times I have visited them. 
Within the last week. 

And these people of the shops, do they know, my dear? 

Nay! I went in disguise. As a dancer. I trowth the dis- 
guise served my purpose. At each time of my visit the 
shop was filled with visitors. And upon one visit the mas- 
queraders cheered me much in my dancing. 

Ha! Ha! Fancy thee disguised a dancer in the Coffee 
Shop. But little did these masqueraders know a Princess 
of the Royal House was among them. 

And he threw back his head with a bold gesture, he 
laughed hoarsely. 

His laugh jarred upon the Princess. 

Dear didst thou learn any important news from these 
visitors of the Shops? 

I learned this Theron. They are all friendly to thee. And 
to thy platform. 

And. Too they remain very bitter towards Canterre. 

Before she could finish he interrupted her. 

Then I need not fear from the Coffee Shops? 

Not a stroke, Theron, responded the Princess. 

These liberalists are strong in numbers in Cairo. It is 


A Princess of the Orient 


79 


well. I find favour with them. And now, my little Prin- 
cess. Upon tomorrow’s night, go thou into the temple. 

Upon hearing these words, the Princess was startled. A 
look of horror crept into her eyes. 

The temple? The Concubine Temple? Surely Theron 
thou can not ask this of me? 

She looked, squarely into his eyes and he smiled cunningly. 

There, my dear. And why not? 

But Theron. This temple it is not a fit place for me to 
go. 

Then, Roxana after all other things thou hast accom- 
plished for me. The last thing I ask of thee to do. Thou 
refuses. My dear. This will finish thy duties. And after 
so many wonderful things thou hast done to quit just as the 
last stroke is here. Then, indeed thou art weakening. Thou 
has forgotten thy promise. The promise thou hast pledged 
to me. 

The Princess sat erect. Not in truth, Theron. I have 
not forgotten my pledge. I will go to the Temple, to-mor- 
row night. 

She leaned back against her bench. She repulsed him 
and he winched under her move. 

Roxana thou art indeed beautiful. Thou art fascinating. 
It is easy for thee to cast a spell of thy charm upon the 
people. And with thy most wonderful personality, thy 
charm of such an individuality. What gentleman could not 
win, with thee as his accomplice? 

Nav, he continued smilingly. It is necessary that I have 
the votes of the temple-followers. And thou? Thou dost 
understand, my sweet Princess? 

I do, cooly replied the Princess. And with a new light in 
her eyes. 

A pained silence fell upon them. For a quickened cruel- 
ty came upon the Princess, for the first time since her ac- 
quaintance with Theron. And Theron too, sat overcome 
with a feeling, nearly a shame. Then he arose to go. 

The Princess did not attempt to hold him now. But. 
Theron upon noting the new attitude assumed by the Prin- 
cess. Seated himself once more by her side. 

Nay. I will not go my dear. Thou hast but told me thou 
were wretchedly lonely. That thy apartments were filled 
with emptiness. It is enough. The meetings can wait. 
While I await thy pleasure upon this night. 

Another silence fell upon them. And Theron was sur- 


80 


A Princess of the Orient 


prised to meet this attitude in the Princess. It was most 
foreign and he could not understand it. 

My Princess after the election, and he faltered, as she 
turned and looked at him. 

Yea, after the election Theron? 

Then we shall spend every night together. And many 
glorious nights too. They shall be. My dear. O, I prythee 
Roxana. In thy visits in the Coffee Shops, didst thou never 
meet with Canterre? I have a fear that he might seek to 
even gain the friendly consent of these followers. Though he 
scorns them openly. 

The peculiar attitude overspreading the Princess, caused 
her to droop her head. 

I prythee Roxana, didst thou meet with Canterre there? 
Slowly she lifted her head. She defiantly responded. Nay. 
I have never met with Canterre in the Coffee Shops. 

Theron looked closely upon her upturned face. But he 
did not understand the battle that so writhed her soul and 
troubled her mind. Neither the irony glance of her eye. 

In truth. Theron only could see the lovely Princess in all 
fascination. 

Then he smiled in conceit and embraced her. 

CHAPTER XII. 

Cynthia. The Moon. 

O Love of love, offering of the mighty gods 
We wouldst feign have thy power in bondage — 

Thy spirit aspireth every cloud in the heavens 
And. Mercury’s messager doth soar boldly round 
Whispering to the o’er fraught heart. The wonder ous eyes 
Of Mars are counted by thy pleasure arts. Thy hidden 
Power is mighty as Venus whom the gods do decree 
To bewitch and rent the heart. Thy prisoners we are 
Be what we may, held in silence long. Couldst we 
Have the poiver to o’er speak we wouldst but chide 
Thee for Cupid has bared our breasts, hath pierced 
Our hearts where the gods of love didst burn their Seal! 

Desra of the Egyptians. 

Yestern day might have been the try sting day for a cele- 
bration in Cairo. But. This night. The whole of Cairo 
gathered together to partake of the pleasures and of the 
frolics of a carnival. This night the legend of Cynthia the 
illustrious moon was to be celebrated in the city. 

Such a warmth of fancy held the hearts, clasped the 
minds of the people under a sweet enchantment. And Na- 


A Princess of the Orient 


81 


ture’s Art doth draw, it doth so wield a marvelous fascina- 
tion upon the minds of the people. An intoxication of ex- 
hilaration, a glad spirit fell upon all persons gathered. Clear 
tones from the double pipes, soft sweet tones from the 
lyre wafted into the grove. Therein. The rural festivities 
were being held. It was the carnival of Cynthia. 

The grove lit with swinging lanterns of Egyptian designs 
and the clusters of green, the clusters of yellow, the clusters 
of redden lights made an artistic setting against the soft 
glow of the silver moon. The moon this night was slyly 
peeping through the boughes of the rounded laurel trees. 
Through these lanterns weird tones of the Oboes floated. 

Parts of this grove had been strewn with flowers. In sep- 
erate parts watch fires had been lighted. The surroundings 
seized the sentiments of the people. Of the pleasure seek- 
ers, and everyone was girded with sweet delights. 

The Prince Governor was attending the carnival. He en- 
tered the grove escorted by attendants. It was his duty to 
officially open the carnival. His was the duty to read a 
verse — oracle purported to be a herald from the Amber- 
Eyed god. Wisdom. 

He stood upon a high platform in the midst of this throng 
of people. Cheers were sounded from the people. And 
when all was quiet he read the verse-oracle. In part it read. 

It is meted there shall be untold joys filling the hearts of 
the Egyptians. There shall be uncourted pleasure for every 
one. Courtly favours shall be established. The King shall 
be given greater understanding for his people, likewise shall 
the King shower generously these enlightenments upon the 
people. 

Loud cheers sounded drowning the speaker’s voice. 

Long live the King! Long live the King! 

And when the cheers were quiet once more, the speaker 
continued. 

There shall be progression coming from peace. Harmony 
that which the Amber-Eyed god doth give unto thee. 

Now, louder than ever were the cheers. Red lights were 
torched and mutterings were heard throughout the entire 
grove. 

Hold! continued the speaker. Should the people act not 
accordingly to a goodly conscience that which the Nature 
god hath given man. That of justice. Of peace. Then 
shall Mars, the war-god descend upon thee, with wars, with 


82 


A Princess of the Orient 


other plagues. And all that is black in the sight of the 
greater gods. 

A warning is thus sounded against unlawfulness. Against 
injustice. Every act that tends to destroy the peace, the 
prosperity of Egypt. 

And likewise a greeting with goodly promises is given thee. 

The speaker having finished the verse oracle, descended 
the platform. 

And the people remained more in awe. Perchance in 
sullenly dangerous minds. A profound feeling for that 
which was sublime. Awful in their destiny, followed by a 
deeper reverence akin to their prayers, fell upon the people 
and for a moment all but the Oboes was silent. The weird 
tones of their wind instruments struck awe as well as mirth. 
It was a charming picture of Egyptian reverence. 

Surely the empurpled paths of duty stood before the 
people. In individual measures. From this pleasing loving 
mass of people, the oriental plane-trees seemed to shelter 
much that was beautiful to the eye. Songs sung by Dryards 
were heard from the breezes. 

And Lady Vivian with her companion Lady Catherine sat 
in a nearby retreat. 

They were enchanted by these songs of extravagant 
passion. In the distant they watched the Ghawazed, the 
dancing girls. These girls always danced at carnivals in 
Cairo. Their dancing charmed Lady Vivian as dancing al- 
ways did. They offered an offense to Lady Catherine, like- 
wise. 

Lady Catherine turned her eyes away from the dancer’s 
bare feet. From their almost naked bodies. She fell to 
studying the face of Lady Vivian. Gently she took the 
slender hand of Lady Vivian, clasping it within her own 
hands. 

Surely Lady Vivian was bearing some secret sorrow. Her 
eyes bore tear stains. Yet. She gently and firmly denied 
herself acknowledgement of such a sorrow. 

Vivian the girls. The Ghawazed. They do fitly dance 
when they can so charm thee. For in so charming thee, 
they famish thy sorrow, sweetly spake Lady Catherine. 

Lady Vivian trembled with a slight tremble. 

Catherine, warily I would consent to speak of myself 
upon such an occasion. 

But thou art dear unto my heart, sweet companion, re- 
plied Lady Catherine. 


A Princess of the Orient 


83 


Alack! Catherine I know the lesser significance of my 
small self in this throng of happy people. And should I 
speak of that which is biting my own heart? 

Well, my dear. I would but worsen myself. 

Come sweet companion. Didst thou forget that to-night 
thou art my protege? 

I would know thy mind. 

Catherine I have bent of mind to evade thy question. For 
thou indeed art my sweetest friend. The companion of my 
girlhood and I love thee fondly. 

And I prythee only for this night do not dwell upon my 
sorrow. Tonight I yearn for something different. My 
own most morbid thoughts have been binding me in con- 
stant weight. In my waking hours. Alack, in my dream- 
ing slumbers. They shadow me and I remain wretched. 
Each moment approaches me with longings for an under- 
standing. Ah! There are countless, sunless hours for me. 
And yet, our magnificent universe doth smile in so many 
happy glories. 

Lady Vivian stopped. And Lady Catherine followed her 
eyes and she too, beheld Canterre approaching them. 

Lady Vivian flushed and Lady Catherine smiled as the 
tall figure of Canterre approached them. 

Greetings, Ladies! In the name of the illustrious Cynthia! 

Thou are welcome Canterre, responded Lady Vivian. 
While Lady Catherine extended her hand very cordially. 

Fair evening in the name of the illustrious Cynthia, spake 
Lad}^ Catherine. 

The grove, is it not a gorgeous sight, ladies? And doth it 
not wear its garlands proudly, asked Canterre with his eyes 
fastened upon the face of Lady Vivian. 

So surely art the gods pleased upon such a night, respond- 
ed Lady Catherine. 

And Lady Vivian remained so pensive, so silent that Can- 
terre bearing a confusion turned to leave these companions. 

Canterre I prythee do not go. My companion and myself 
wish thee to remain with us. And she laid her hand upon 
his arm. Then he turned again to remain with them. And 
the rustic bench, so deeply carved held the three spectators. 

A sudden hush broken by footsteps like footsteps of drill- 
ing soldiers. Sounded. 

They turned in fear. They looked in pity. For there 
passing near to them were a number of prisoners. Not one 
spake as they marched in regulated steps. Their pale wan 


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faces, dispelled all the happy events of the Carnival. They 
passed on. And in so passing left a mist of sadness upon 
these three people. 

In pity, spake Lady Vivian her voice choked with tears. 

More than pity Lady Vivian responded Canterre. The 
dungeon needs must mold only demons. And this mould of 
a demon is shaped and compressed with drops of blood from 
the human heart. Ye gods! What a peril for our good 
fellowmen. 

So speaking Canterre pressed his hand upon his forehead, 
in a jesture of pity. 

Lady Vivian answered him most gently. 

Canterre there is a law in Cairo that no prisoner be per- 
mitted to lie in confinement during, the Carnival of Cynthia. 

True, spake Lady Catherine with enthusiasm. It is an 
old tradition that peace, good-will both follow this law. 

Ye gods! Thy traditions. The whole of Egypt seems sat- 
urated with weird traditions. 

As Canterre spake thus. Lady Vivian arose in injury. And 
her face was livid. 

Canterre! Broke from her lips. 

I prythee Lady Vivian. I beg a thousand pardons. I 
spake too hastily. And not in the manner of a gentleman. 
I trowth thou pardon me. 

Most hastily, responded Lady Vivian as she seated her- 
self again. While a curious gleam of distrust crept into the 
eyes of Lady Catherine. And she spake not a word. 

In truth my dear Lady Vivian. My words were abruptly 
spoken. ’Twas pity. Pity in my heart for these unfortu- 
nates. I prythee, thy pardon. 

France alike thy Egypt doth count her prisons. I do re- 
joice upon this one night; these unfortunates may feel honest 
men, as they are permitted to walk. To mingle with so 
many honest citizens. And Cairo is filled with goodly citi- 
zens too. 

Canterre philosophizing upon a frivolous night! These 
words fell upon them. It was Theron. He approached them 
with bold strides. The ladies greeted him graciously, quite 
in a gracious manner. While Canterre arose, extended his 
hand to him with a constrained manner of speech. 

It was not my wish to philosophize, to make solemn this 
great fun carnival. I merely spake of the prisoners. They 
passed but the moment ago. 

Ha! Why deplore their state Canterre? Poor devils! 


A Princess of the Orient 


85 


That they are. They are not one whit tamed by the torture 
of the prison. Methinks, our city is well protected when 
all such merles breathe behind strong bars. And as Theron 
spake, he laughed cruelly. 

Canterre arose in seeming anger. Perchance contempt. 

Lady Vivian I prythee, I may leave thee now. Later I 
shall have the very great pleasure of joining thee. 

With a courteous bow to the ladies he left them. And he 
disappeared in the throng of moving people. 

Theron smiled contemptuously, then turning to the ladies 
his words were irony. 

Canterre deserts us upon a small provocation. He surely 
doth hold a bond of deep sympathy for these black hearted 
criminals. 

Lady Vivian turned her head in quicke defense of Can- 
terre. 

Perchance, Theron. Canterre doth possess a more human- 
ly heart than thee? 

Ah! So the lovely Vivian doth stand to protect the name 
of Canterre! He doth charm the fair lady with his little 
mannerisms. But here comes IM. Clevelande. 

Greetings! Greetings M. Clevelande. Fair evening unto 
thee, comrade. 

Fair evening unto the most charming ladies. And unto 
thee Theron. I deem it most unfair that two such lovely 
ladies hide away from the merry-makers. Smuggled within 
this quiet retreat. Finely done for thee Theron. But. Over 
the grove the people are mad with joy. There is every kind 
of pleasures here from the grotesque to the sublime. Of the 
most ancient. 

Trully, my friend. For this is the carnival of Cynthia, re- 
sponded Lady Vivian. 

And her eyes sparkled with the colour of enthusiasm. 

The dear old grove prouds our loyalty. The people do 
pay honour unto Cynthia, upon this merry carnival night. 
Behold how the rays of the moon beguile all Cairo with 
their searching glow. The stars hold fast to the sacred 
cycle of the moon’s halo. In delicate wreathes of mist. The 
dainty stars take on fantastic shapes. They play in artistic 
rhymes. Here in our blessed country, the Britain savages 
looked through the stone pyramid, they beheld the Southern 
Cross. To-night, we seek to look through the pyramid. 

We. Too. Behold glories in this wreathe of stars. And 
to-night, the blue-white Sirius, twinkling fast, quicke in 


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turns upon Cairo. Even the reddish star. Antares. It 
shines forth tonight. 

What a glorious night I A night for pretty, idle fancies. 
Behold the moonl And what a picture: our Egyptland is 
outlined in reddest. And yet in the richest colour over- 
shadowing it. The midnight blue, .with purples, with silver. 
The moon doth shine, lest she forget her own carnival. 

Come, thy compliments move to the Earthy, Vivian. I 
pry thee. Lady Catherine and M. Clevelande, pardon! Lady 
Vivian and myself go to promenade in the grove. 

Thou dost know Vivian, I am accepting the honour of 
thy consent. 

Volon tiers, responded M. Clevelande with a hasty eager- 
ness in his glance which he directed upon Lady Catherine’s 
face. 

Lady Catherine watched Lady Vivian with Theron, as this 
pair walked through the merry makers and until their re- 
treating forms were lost to her sight. 

A lovely pair, dear Catherine. And they seem much fas- 
cinated with the merry sports of the evening, ventured M. 
Cleveland^. 

And. Should it not be so? All truly loyal Egyptians 
should be reverent to the memory of Cynthia, responded 
Lady Catherine quickly. 

M. Clevelande sat with his keen blue grey eyes fastened 
upon the face of Lady Catherine. She noted his glance and 
a blush o’erspread her face. The blush only made her more 
lovely to look upon. And M. Clevelande was thrilled. 

Catherine thou art a sweet friend, a close companion to 
Vivian. Ye gods! How I envy Vivian this close companion- 
ship. 

Friend. I prythee, such light words. And she turned 
slightly. 

Catherine my dearest. My words are not idle. I utter 
them with my heart’s throb. For I love thee, dearest, I love 
thee. ’ ' 

Friend, thy love is not in the proper reverence for this 
occasion. Come, let us join the people. 

And Lady Catherine arose to go but he stayed her. 

Catherine, thou now shall listen to my words. 

As she glanced at him she felt a resentment, yet a pity for 
him. And she gently placed her hand upon his shoulder. 

Friend, I do not wish thee any offense. 

But, Catherine thou knowst. Ah! Only too well. My 


A Princess of the Orient 


87 


living passion for thee. Why hast thou continually hidden 
thyself away from me all these days? 

My good friend, truly. I am much confined to my model- 
ing at the present. 

Nay. I pry thee do not such light reasons, give me. They 
serve to hurt me more. 

But in truth. I tell thee friend. I am closely confined in 
my studio. I am now finishing a rarebit of modeling which 
has required very close work. 

Catherine. Work. Work. All the time. Me thinks it is 
unnatural that one so young, so rarely beautiful. Should 
deny thyself the pleasures of life. The beautiful pleasures 
of youth. 

Ah, my friend. I am young. Yea, I thank the gods of 
kind fortune for my youth. For I have the natural hope 
bourne alone in youth, as the sages do scribe. 

Catherine, my God! It is only the hope of youth! And 
he pressed his hands over his eyes. 

She turned, then continued. 

In youth, as the sages scribe. To model, model and to 
know that some day I may sculptor my name upon the 
greater tablets of fame. 

Deny myself? It is that thou dost not know art. Rather. 
That thou canst not understand the lure of ambition. That 
alone can cause thee to speak so. I am young, I am in per- 
fect health. In these I shall find my fame. 

Sweet Catherine, there are other glories in life than work. 

Friend. Then. If thou callst my modeling work — these 
words sound all too harshly. I like them not. I frankly 
confess it is my life. 

In her vivacity, he beheld a fierce fire of ambition. He 
understood why Catherine was leading to triumphal success. 
It was by virture of individual power. 

My dear this love of thy art is but one of thy successes. 
Alack! Can not even the least of my words explain my 
meaning to thee? 

They do indeed. But friend, thy words, they remain 
meaningless to me. 

An injured glance came into his eyes, then it was followed 
by a cruel light. 

There is some hidden secret deep in thy heart. Smolder- 
ing a burning love for some lover. I must be so. Since love 
is the gift of the gods, and thou art the daughter to the 
gods of beauty of passion. 


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Pardon, friend. Thy words serve thee naught. Believe 
thou me, they are as a honey comb to me. I prythee do not 
speak idly. 

Idlyl Idly! Ye gods! Then thy heart is given to an- 
other.. 

Again she arose and stood before him, but he remained 
motionless. 

Let us join the merry makers, my good friend. 

Sweetly, lightly spoken Catherine. Dost thou hope to 
shake off my love as thou canst fling aside this conversation? 

Yea, but my friend. Is it not enough that the friendship 
between thee and me is goodly? 

Fie! Goodly friendship, I will none of it. Friendship is 
made only to bind fellow comrades tightly in goodly fellow- 
ship bonds. But. Sweet love. The perfumed breathe of 
the gods! Catherine I will never accept of it from thee. 
Never. I would rather thou denounce me with burning 
hatred than to feel a blind mercy for me. A mercy shaped 
in the mould of friendship. For this. The natural good- 
ness of thy heart doth! 

Too true, the lion hunter is fond of his prey! 

And the gods spake unto the lover saying: Venus the 
heralder of Juno, penetrath: it searc’th until it doth find the 
true heart of the fond lover. And then. It doth settle. 
With a very rosy glow. 

My good friend. Dost thou not know such passions as 
thine doth find a most violent end? 

Thou most recklessly pronounce a violence upon me Cath- 
erine. Is it? Can it be true, thy heart is with Mordane? 

M. Clevelande! 

Speak thou Catherine. Is Mordane more to thee than a 
fellow artist? 

By what right? Thou dare to question me in such a man- 
ner. 

Then thou dost seek to conceal thy love for him. Thou 
dost love this gentleman, Mordane. 

Friend thy suspicions are most befitting of a guilty one. 
And Mordane. He is to be called my lover because he 
models with me? True he models faithfully with me. I am 
most fortunate. For he is the master of greatest repute in 
Cairo. All Cairo raves over the Sacred friezes of the new 
temple. 

But I believed these friezes to be from thy hand Catherine. 


A Princess of the Orient 


89 


Yea and nay. Now. Canst thou know that in Mordane 
the gentleman Artist, I have both friend and master. 

He bent over her closer. He looked deep into her love-lit 
eyes. He held her face between his hands. 

Catherine, my sweet Catherine. Master and friend! Then 
dearest is it true thou canst bear no love for me? Have I 
no hope? 

Lady Catherine withdrew from him. She stood instantly, 
apart from him. A compassion lighted her face but not one 
word did she reply to him. She turned quickly and left 
him standing. Alone. 

And the voice of jealousy whispered into his ready ear. 

M. Clevelande she doth contain a passionate love for 
Mordane! 

CHAPTER XIII. 

The District Meeting. 

The typical political district meeting with its uproar, with 
its confusing throngs of people was being held in Cairo. The 
streets were lighted with an extra line of lights. Fires were 
lighted. Walking hither and thither groups of men were 
discussing politics. In some parts, the coarse brown-felt 
turbans perched upon the heads of the men in the streets 
were nearly hidden by the reeking smoke of their hemp- 
pipes. But for the coarse voices one could not distinguish 
them to be men. Their loud coarse tones all but drowned 
the beat of the flat drums. The notes of the reeds surround- 
ed the rooms of the building; wherein the party workers 
were gathered. Near one outer corner building in a dim 
lis:ht were gathered men half clothed in tattered clothing. 
These tatterdemalions were playing the Eg5q)tian favoured 
game — or what was known as the loafing game. Black- 
gammon. 

The entire moving throng was desolated by discord. Im- 
patient men were rekindled by music of the reed. Drunken 
men reissued volleys of oaths at the flaming sight of the 
burning torches. A reigle was made for the candidate, for 
the speaker. 

Canterre candidate for Prince Governor was the speaker. 
He was escorted through the reigle and upon the platform 
bv two worthy Egyptians. Cheers bursted from his enthusi- 
astic followers. It was a time before the cheers of the motly 
mingled crowd ceased and before the reeds were silent 
enough for the speaker to speak. 

Canterre spake rapidly. Forcibly. Firing his listeners. 


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A Princess of the Orient 


He touched upon the present system of the government. He 
spake boldly of the iron powered machine of the opposing 
party then in force. Praising the educational, both the 
scientific and the art institution of their cultured city. Of 
the present government he tore into strips. He denounced 
the officials from the Prince Governor to the Commandant 
of the city. And he assented in striking tones, that the pro- 
gression of Cairo was blocked to a standstill. At this point 
he was obliged to halt until the cheers ceased. He made 
faithful pledges to his listeners that he would eliminate 
Cairo from the corrupt system that which was in force at the 
present time. 

From the fields of numerous controversies every citizen of 
Cairo had studied with vied interest the situation and these 
questions, he fired into the crowd of listeners. Dwelling 
forcibly upon intemperance. And upon temperance. 

My worthy friends and good citizens of Cairo. Why is it 
the silken industries of Egypt are taxed while the date 
palm groves are not taxed? 

And the cola groves owned both individually and by the 
government are not taxed, while the fisheries of Feiyoom are 
breaking with a heavy tax? 

The coffee shops remain unclosed, night and day, while 
the temple gates are locked? 

The Bacchanilian resorts. A most fitting name for these 
fated coffee shops wherein both the young and the old of 
all clans partake of the so-called friendly cup. The ve- 
hemenous cup tempting our young men, our boys. Our girls 
with their sparkling contents, and ruining them with its 
deadly dregs. Causing them to weep in bitter wail over the 
tombs of their achievements. 

My fellow-men allow me to recite a few verses from the 
pen of a good author. 

Here’s How! 

To wreck a fine career 
To make all pleasures cost you dear 
To fill each day with grief and fear! 

Here*s how! 

Here^s how 

To loose both vim and grip 

To moke the small leak sink the ship 

To feel the conscience wield a whip! 

Here*s how! 


A Princess of the Orient 


91 


Here's how 
So lead a useless life 
To break the heart of child or wife 
To give the home to bitter strife! 

Here's how. 

Here's how 

You'll find the down hill road 
Under an ever-stinging goad: 

Here's how the crop of ruin's sowed! 

Here's how! 

Here's how 

The devil wins the game: 

Whate'er the start, the end's the same. 

The devil wins the game: 

Here's how! 

A roar of Aye! Aye! Mingled with applause broke from 
the crowd, as the speaker spoke with eloquent oratory this 
little verse. He continued then. 

My fellow men of this splendid Cairo. Our religious 
temples wherein the higher ideals of life are taught, 
wherein blessings are poured forth upon the righteous, 
crowning their efforts with success. And. Wherein the 
bruised life with its torn, its bleeding heart may find a newer 
light. Wherein a burdened Soul may gather strength for 
good, strong purposes. These temples are closed with a 
severe punctuality. 

Citizens, fellowmen! This vile system of law. The pres- 
ent ordinances of Cairo should not stand in the name of 
Justice. In the glory of progression. 

And such were the topics of his speech. The people as 
they gave their ear. Some were cautious. Some questioned 
one to the other. Would the new Prince Governor do better? 

And so this meeting. With Canterre as the principle 
speaker continued the greater part of the evening. Other 
speeches followed in rapid succession. 

Now at this same time. Upon this same hour. The 
Prince Governor sought Lady Vivian for he well knew she 
would be alone. 

She remained alone within her reading chapel. And as 
Theron entered this chapel she arose to greet him. However 
he quickly detected her constrained graciousness together 
with her assumed greetings. 

Vivian thou art indulging in thy favorite pastime — read- 


92 


A Princess or the Orient 


ing of the old classics? And Theron studied her face as he 
spake. 

Quite in truth Theron. I do find much pleasure in this 
literature of the classics. 

What is it, the one thou art reading to-night, my dear? I 
am jealous of its worth. 

He attempted to take the silken bound volume. However. 
She quickly drew it from his grasp and placed it among other 
copies in the glass case. 

The case stood in one far corner of the chapel. Returning 
to her bench again, she looked perplexed. A tinge of annoy- 
ance dwelt upon her countenance. 

Theron is not this night quite an important time for thee? 
And why art thou not with thy committee meetings? 

Ah, so thou too art becoming versed in politics, my dear. 
But to-night. Since the beautiful night doth bear me hence 
in thy charming presence, I am the most highly favoured of 
all men in Cairo. I would banish civic affairs! 

Foolish, Theron! I do speak of the political meetings. 
There are many in different sections of the city? 

True. I noticed the section just below the halls. There, 
was a district meeting in fair progress. That is to say. I 
noticed my illustrious opponent with his assistants speaking 
to a small, decidedly small motly crowd of wildly excited 
people. However. There is naught. That which is unus- 
ual in this, as it comes in the general routine of electioneer- 
ing. For this is the heated time in politics. 

And as Theron finished speaking a smile played upon his 
lips. 

But. Methinks thou art lacking in thy interest, Theron. 
What an interest Canterre doth manifest in these street 
meetings. It doth bear goodly judgements. Rather. It 
doth appeal in such a light upon my mind. 

And my dear Vivian. Truly thou dost mistake, responded 
Theron with a malicious smile which ill become his lowering 
countenance. 

I deem it not necessary to be in the midst of these street 
meetings. I have a number of strong, clear headed workers 
from the machine. They are efficient. Most efficient. I 
know the system of the machine and in knowing this. I 
have little to resist. And nothing to fear in this coming 
election. 

Perchance, Theron replied Lady Vivian as she turned her 
glance away from him. 


A Princess of the Orient 


93 


My dear Vivian, what dost thou know of politics? Of 
the political game? 

This is one game in which the fair sex have never inter- 
ested themselves. So they remain not well versed in its 
proceedings. 

Truly spoken Theron. Egypt doth banish this progres- 
sion within her borders. Nevertheless. In other countries. 
In France. There a woman is not held in conventional 
lines. A toy of fads! Subjected to the one rule of the op- 
posite sex. 

My Dear, such startling words from thy sweet lips. Lips 
that should only speak of the Empyrean! And. We were 
speaking of the election in Cairo. The fair sex doth never 
anticipate other than the pleasures. The love of their loved 
ones. And truly. In this election Vivian, I have naught to 
fear. If from any source, it comes from the Jew, alone. 

The Jew? Then, thou dost indeed unjustly accuse the 
Jew still? Who would believe that the mind of a political 
leader and a party worker would refuse to unfold in the en- 
lightnment of civil progression. Brother to brother, one of 
all mankind. In this I am amazed, Theron. 

Unfold, my dear Vivian? My mind doth remain even 
more guarded. Now the Jew is given a Seat in our Consis- 
tory. I fear. What not from the Jew. 

Theron, the one strong act of the King was to establish 
the Jew in our Consistory. In this act he not alone shows 
great and broad knowledge, but a progression hailing upon 
the sails of human justice. 

All honour to the King! Thy most noble father. His 
acts remain law. But. Vivian, I prythee let us quit the 
political game for these few sweet hours of night. Come. 

Whereupon Theron impatiently snapped his fingers. He 
paced up and down, and round the chapel. He seated him- 
self again upon a low stool directly in front of Lady Vivian. 

Dearest, I come not here to speak. Neither to seek to re- 
cite the workings of the political game. I come to seek thee 
my love. Upon matters more vital than politics. More 
dear to the heart. It is of thee I wouldst speak my love. 

He drew closer to her as he spoke, but she become sud- 
denly silent. A harsh light gleamed in her eyes. With a 
careless shrug of her shoulders she laughed quite rudely. 

Of myself, Theron? Methinks there is the most deadly 
bit of news wrapped in myself. There is naught of lively 


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A Princess of the Orient 


interest to relate. All. Everybit of news is petrified. As 
belonging to the past. 

Theron noted this light answer. He resented it inwardly 
with a sulleness. 

Vivian, I have been in thy society so little now for almost 
a fortnight. I pry thee, what of the old man? Thy charge. 
The shepherd, whom thou so tenderly nursed within the 
chapel house. 

The aged man, who was injured in the public park? He is 
much better and I hope he shall soon be recovered. How- 
ever he is feeble now. So feeble to combat such an injury. 
The physician is very hopeful of his early recovery. 

My dear Vivian I do speak candidly. I can not conceive 
of thy goodly and charitable deed towards this Jew. For 
thou hast the good will. Yea the love of the Egyptian 
people, because of thy loyalty to them. And the Jew. He 
has always been the most fearful enemy to thy people. 

Silence! That is the key to all the trouble, Theron. Egypt 
has at all times held the Jew as her enemy. Despising them, 
distrusting them. It is a fruitless step with the people for 
Egypt stands not in the line of progression. In the march 
with her neighboring countries. 

Hold! Were the fair Vivian not daughter to the King. 
She might be called traitoress. A traitoress to Egypt re- 
sponded Theron. 

Theron! exclaimed she with dignity. 

My dear it is quite true. Thou knowst well the aged man, 
the shepherd. Thou has taken him into, and nursed him 
within the King’s chapel. This is against the people’s wish. 

Then, in truth. Are the Egyptians so inhuman, as not to 
administer unto the wounded, the helpless? Can they brave- 
ly stand by and witness their brother suffering and in want? 
Without lifting a hand to administer a balm? 

But nevertheless, my dear. Thou didst not counsel with 
the King in the case of this sick tramp. 

I did not Theron. Upon my faith, dost thou believe I 
do not know a human duty? This man be he shepherd or 
nay. He is a human with a heart and Soul. And did not 
the Privy Council seat the Jew in their council? Yea. In 
this right. As a citizen of Cairo, he demands the protection 
of alms in his frightful destitute condition answered she. 

Vivian it is a subject upon which we differ vastly. I 
prythee let us not discuss the question at further lenghts. 


A Princess of the Orient 


95 


Let us make no more mention of the Jew. I pry thee let us 
enjoy these few hours in sweet sympathy. 

At this point, Theron sat studying the face of Lady 
Vivian. It was lighted with sympathy which mellowed her 
beauty into an art. And as she keenly noted the glance of 
his eye, so fastened upon her. She arose, walking slowly 
away from her bench. She stood before an opening in the 
chapel. Which had an overlook of the circular gardens. 

Theron quickly followed her. And he stole his arm 
around her slight waist. 

He forcibly drew her head upon his shoulder, with a most 
endearing caress. 

But she tore herself rudely, from his embrace. 

Theron. It is so unlike a brother. Unlike a sister, re- 
sponded she with an assumed courtesy which was nearly a 
rudeness. 

What phrases, my dear! Surely, it is unlike a sister. Un- 
like a brother. 

I prythee, what has caused this stubborn change in thy 
sweet self? For thou art changed, completely. And it melts 
my heart to know thou art so. 

Theron. This subject, I believed we have closed. Upon 
one former occasion. Please have the gracious kindness not 
to attempt to open it again. 

Yea, sweet Vivian. But I must know more from thy own 
lips. Thy mind can not be so poisoned, without goodly 
cause. There was a beautiful time. When the hours we 
spent together were golden. Ah! dearest more than that. 
Arid now. 

And now Thereon, replied Lady Vivian interrupting him, 
facing him quite cooly. Indeed. Thou doth wear a wretch- 
edly, miserable countenance. I prythee, my curiosity is 
quickened. Is it a biting conscience or a bruised heart. 
Thereon? For gossip has it. That thou art so enamoured 
of the luxurious Persian Princess! 

Then. The curious gossip doth lie. The gossip doth lie 
in blackest words. I do not love the Princess. And well 
knowst this all. Too well, my sweet Vivian. 

Theron. The Princess is highly placed. Out of the 
dephts fascinations weave a web binding this lovely creature 
to the hearts of the whole of Cairo. Indeed. She is most 
lovely. And a goodly companion thou has found in the fair 
Princess. Ah! Thou most envied of all men in Cairo. And 
thou dost attempt to mock the love of such a creature. And 


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at the same time. Thou hast safe-guarded the beauty from 
all the willing and seeking gaze of the people. Thy judge- 
ment in this is excellent. For she is divinely fair to look 
upon. 

Vivian! The Princess is lovely. A goodly companion for 
she is fair to look upon. 

Then thou art most bold to mock at beauty’s shrine, in- 
terrupted she. 

Beauty? Nay. I worship at the shrine of beauty, as all 
mankind, alike. 

Love? Nay. I love not where I worship. I love but 
thee, Vivian. 

Yet thou doth laviously entertain the Princess. Gossip 
whispers it, continued Lady Vivian with cold words. With 
colder glance. 

In that. They speak quite the truth. I act for goodly 
cause. And since the gossip has made all these truths pub- 
lic. These mongers they who count the deeds of man. I 
thank the gods! They are denied the inmost secrets of his 
heart. 

Theron! It doth ill become thee. Such phrases. But. 
There is a more becoming trust, entrusted to thee. Ever re- 
member. The love of a woman is a sacred gift. Now, givth 
thy ear. We. Thee and me have been fond of one another. 

Fond? Broke in Theron in tragic tones. Ye gods! 

Yea, Theron. I believed I loved thee, at one time. Alack! 
I soon learned that I loved an ideal. And it was not to be 
found in thee. As the days passed, I began better to under- 
stand thy ways. To know thee with a deeper wisdom, the 
wisdom, that which comes with sound sense and not with a 
blinded love. I had an awakening, Theron. Such an 
awakening! And, then it was, I understood. 

Lady Vivian faltered. Not in truth faltered but she be- 
come silent at this moment. 

While Theron stood rigid in surprise before her. 

Then she continued. 

Thy life, Theron is liken yon lighted court garden. In ap- 
pearances all that is merry, bright, reaching. All that which 
is welcome. And within Cairo, in short, thou indeed, dost 
appear wearing glories for a reverence. Demonstrating con- 
fidence in divine good by manifesting a sympathetic tread in 
thy fellowmen. It is false. It is all false and it doth bear 
the impress of M. Theron. 


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97 


Vivian, my dearest! exclaimed Theron in concealed angry 
tones. 

Nay, Theron. Permit me to continue. Thou art well de- 
fined, sharp cut falsely. Thy mien hast become faulty unto a 
mean treachery. It is an old adage, and a fitly one, too. 
That there is an abiding feeling that corruption lurks behind 
the gayest forms and the brightest colours! 

And this adage, my dear is time worn and its philosophy 
fails more than it measures true. My dearest! It is really 
a hard task for me to gather the meaning of thy harsh 
phrases. Thou art surely, sorely distressed for a meaning 
doth lie in thy words. 

But, Theron, thou may deem me mad. But since thou 
must know more. Since thou hast been made Prince Gov- 
ernor of Cairo, I do not like it. It is idle gossip, I thought 
at first. Alack! It is true. Thy conduct now. The Prin- 
cess! And the scheme, in which the Princess so innocencely 
rests. Theron, I prythee it is like poison to me. And I 
prythee in the future, incline thy attentions upon the Prin- 
cess. Go thy way and come not again to me. 

My dearest, this is but a poorly attempt. Thou hast 
sought some goodly pardon for thyself, in this attempt to 
loan me to the Princess. I refuse to be granted this priv- 
elige. For I speak frankly. I do believe it done for the 
good of thy lover, Canterre. And his flashing eyes were 
upon her. 

At the mention of Canterre’s name, she turned indignantly 
upon him. 

Theron! I now bid thee, good night! The door. 

She stood pointing her index finger towards the door of 
her chapel. 

Then, Theron dropped upon his knees before her. But 
her eyes gleamed with an unrelenting light upon him. Si- 
lently he arose and without a word, more, he left the chapel. 

The heavy curtains of old gold brocade dropped. He was 
gone. 

Exasperated Lady Vivian walked to and fro within her 
chamber. She tossed her head in angry gestures as she 
snapped her fingers in rapid succession. Enfin, her face 
changed. She then reclined herself upon her bench. And 
reclining thereupon, she bent to the floor. She drew an 
ivory portrait, snuggly hidden away within the head of the 
leopard skin. This full skin lay upon the floor beneath her 
feet in a natural position. 


98 


A Princess of the Orient 


She held the portrait closely. More closely. She kissed 
it with a quicke passion. 

And a violent passion. Then a bright happy smile played 
upon her lips. 

Canterre! Canterre! It is thee. It is only thee, I want! 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Close Council. 

M. Clevelande who was the acting royal Controller of the 
city of Cairo called a meeting of the council-board. 

Dustand of what opinion art thou concerning this new 
reformation confronting Cairo, upon the present hour? 

Mr. President. In truth I do believe there is a force be- 
hind this disturbance. The systemic operation of this new 
party doth seem a directing power, in my opinion, responded 
Dustand with a perplexing attitude. 

All true. Spake another. And a great danger to our 
present system. Methinks, they are fast dissipating our 
forces to-day. And Theron, as our Prince Governor, I feel 
thou too, should understand better than we of this council, 
that there is an urgent need for quicke action. 

All the while M. Theron remained in silent study. And 
apart from these men. 

Dustand the treasury funds are very low. Do I not un- 
derstand correctly from this report just given to us, re- 
marked one member of the board. 

In truth. They are almost to deficient to promote our 
newest scheme. 

Theron turned to one of his Councilmen. 

Calies what of thy opinion? 

I fear too. As Mr. President hath spoken. That we are 
too deficient to handle this newest scheme. The reformation 
leaders have by some method secured a vast amount. Suf- 
ficient money to promote their scheme, forcibly. With us it 
is another situation. Our funds run so low because, now. 
Too much money has already been drawn from the City 
treasury. 

But there must be some scheme! 

The reformers are not alone working with money, spake 
another. They are much favoured by a goodly number of 
our people. They gain steadfastly. 

That may all be true. However, when their money is ex- 
hausted. Their scheme by which they are throwing their 
weight against our machine, me thinks, will fall flat. 

That is another mistaken theory, spake another. Our 


A Princess of the Orient 


99 


party has always worked with money. Not by the voice of 
the people. Now we have it. When the money power is 
dissipated the power of the voice of the people is heard in 
support of the reformation. 

Ye gods! Doth it, then come about that in Cairo, the 
common folk and clan, and not the machine is to rule in 
politics? 

But in faith the machine is on the last movement of fi- 
nance in Cairo. Our Prince Governor has he not exhausted 
all and every means of securing money to continue his gov- 
ernment? 

The outlying districts are refusing to support him. And 
fellowmen, these districts poll most heavy. All the funds 
drawn in from the taxation is well exhausted up to this 
present time. 

Indeed! This is a dire situation. This salt-tax I tell 
thee, is the last tax. It remains only one chance that the 
government can successfully place upon my people. They 
declare they will raise in arms before another tax can ever 
be issued upon them, remarked another. 

In faith, they are stricken by these hard measures. They 
now refuse to work further under them. And in honest 
minds, who is there among us to be otherwise? 

Theron arose at this moment. 

Let the board have a voice. Now. Might we not ascer- 
tain the opinions of the date growers. Should they agree to 
promote their party movement, in its further need we might 
impose a light tax upon their groves. 

Quite the impossible thing to do, Theron. The date 
growers. They will never stand for a taxation. And since 
they are a part of the great money power in Cairo. 

Perchance. Not wisely but we have always consented to 
not make demands upon them, replied Dustand. 

A strong. A valuable institution they^ are in Cairo. Our 
party needs their influence. We must bend to them for 
friendly associations. Not to yoke them. It was my desire 
during the last session of the legislature that we frame a 
measure. \Vhereby the coffee shop, the date-grower and the 
institutions of this class could be taxed. Now, it is too 
late. We are sinking in defeat, continued the President. 

But gentlemen of the council, may we permit the Privy 
Council and this party, wave aside all diplomatic waitings 
and demand they of this party, willing to establish this se- 
curity for the success of their own party. Be one of the 


100 


A Princess of the Orient 


party to stand criminally waiting to lend their own party 
destruction. 

These were the words of Theron spoken upon this moment. 

This scheme may be received with favour, Theron. 

Should the reformers gain in Cairo, these institutions will 
be forever bridled. And therefore. The intelligence of these 
great minded business men may be approached upon this 
scheme, responded Theron, again. 

A report also comes to the office from the pigeon fanciers. 
They will not accept more taxation, came from one member 
who spake in hasty words. 

After a brief silence the President of the Council took the 
floor in slow deliberation. 

Fellow-men all this is true. Having heard these reports. 
And fully appreciating our situation. That our leaders are 
working upon the last great movement. 

Then. They will realize our strides are all but standing 
rock-still. When they realize that there can be, but one so- 
lution to this perplexing problem, spake another. And that 
is money. Money. How to obtain it! 

Dustand then rising to point of order offered a suggestion. 

The irrigation channel. The only valuable possession in 
Cairo left untaxed to a murder. What think ye of bonds on 
these squares? 

Mr. President, I offer a resolution that we work upon 
these irrigation squares to further this scheme. 

Mr. President I move we accept this resolution, spake 
Calies. 

Now. Thou hast all heard the resolution. All in favour 
of this resolution, vote. Aye. 

Aye! Aye! came from all the members. 

All contrary to this resolution, please vote, nay. 

And there was not one dissenting voice raised upon the 
question. 

Whereupon the President stood. The resolution has been 
made and passed upon. That we offer these irrigation 
Squares for sale in bonds thereof. 

Shall the Council adjourn until the hour of eleven tomor- 
row morning? 

Aye! Resounded quickly from each member. 

Then the council stands now adjourned until tomorrow, 
to convene at the hour of eleven in the morning, announced 
the President. 

And thus the council adjourned. 


A Princess of the Orient 


101 


While all the members left the chamber, Theron was the 
last man to leave. He slowly walked out of the chapel 
through the court into the roadway. 

A flutter of skirts. A sunny laughter, suddenly caused 
him to raise his bent head. And there before him stood 
Rubyat. 

Theron! I have waited so long for thee to come. The 
other men have gone so long. What has detained thee ail 
this time? 

And she ran joyously up to him. She put her hands 
through his arm and clasping them tightly, she swung be- 
fore him. Her face was a bright sunbeam. And he thought 
her a pretty picture as he gazed upon her laughing face, 
wreathed in the cluster of curls. 

Rubyat what wouldst thou here, in the roadway? Ques- 
tioned Theron. 

Then he playfully caught the girl in his arms. He kissed 
her lightly and playfully. His kisses smothered the sunny 
laughter which died upon her lips. For then, a shadow fell 
upon her pretty, bright face. 

He held her at arm’s lenght. He searched the clouded 
face. 

Rubyat what has happened, tell me quicke? 

But the girl buried her face in her two sunburnt hands 
and sobbed, brokenly. 

Rubyat, dear child, what is it? And he put her hands 
down. He lifted her tear stained face in his two hands. 

All the while she was silent and she looked into his eyes. 
Steadfastly. 

Theron, my love! Then she burst into another spell of 
sobbing. 

Rubyat, calm thyself and tell me, dear child. Tell me 
quicke, what has happened. It is Theron who commands 
thee. 

Then, upon hearing these words, she raised her face to 
his. She brushed the tears from her eyes. And she spoke 
promptly and with an obedience. 

Theron it was last night, she began. 

What was it? Yea, what happened last night Rubyat? 

Last night, I followed thee. When thou went into the 
gardens leading into the Lady Vivian’s chapel-chamber. 

Rubyat! cried Theron sternly. Child thou dared to do 
such a rash thing? 


102 


A Princess of the Orient 


She raised her face again. For she had buried her face 
upon his breast. 

But, I did. My love, I remained within the gardens all 
the while. For thou were late, very late in coming away. 

Rubyat, is that all? How you frightened me. Then he 
threw back his head. He laughed, wickedly. 

Foolish little girl, he replied as he caressed her again with 
kisses. 

But thou did remain so long with the beautiful daughter 
to the King, she pointed, in a half sob, with clear words. 

Ah! Rubyat. It was but an errand of official duty, that 
bore me into the apartments of Lady Vivian. 

Slowly she lifted her eyes to his. Then, Theron thou 
didst not really go to visit the beautiful Lady Vivian? 

Oh! Certainly, I greeted Lady Vivian, Rubyat. I met 
her there. She remained with the King. 

Truly, Theron? laughed the girl as she raised her pretty 
face up to him. 

Upon my faith, Rubyat. I went there but to confer with 
the King. 

I believe thee! My love! And she kissed him wildly 
again and again. 

Now, little girl, continued Theron as he patted her round 
rosy cheeks. 

I love thee, my love, was her only answer as she buried 
her face again upon his breast. Then she kissed him with a 
shower of warm kisses. 

She brushed away the tears glistening upon her reddened 
cheeks and the same happy free laughter burst from her 
lips. 

And they walked on. As the pair walked away, Canterre 
who had reclined himself upon a stone bench thereby. Stood 
aghast. He knit his brow in study. 

The King! I was with the King myself, last night until 
midnight. Slowly. Then, he lifted his eyes upward above 
every place. Above all. His face bore lines of wretched 
imagination ! He cried aloud in a voice of anguish. 

Theron ! Lady Vivian ! And Rubyat the innocent child ! 
CHAPTER XV. 

The Sand Wizard. 

Both fate and providence have their due influence in mun- 
dane affairs, and all things are constituted for the best. 

. — Plutarch. 

Princess Roxana snugly wrapped in the soft folds of the 


A Princess of the Orient 


103 


mantle of richest velvet which hung about her shoulders, 
walked directly across the outer district of Cairo. She 
crossed the public roadway. She entered into a tent. This 
tent composed of a light framework of the shape of a beehive, 
was covered with a thick covering of reeds. Above it was 
placed a thick black felt which was so designed to make a 
sufficient covering for a shelter from the intense heat. It 
had no window, neither had it a chimney and but one door. 
This tent was unfurnished but for one statue. This statue 
stood in an obscure corner of the tent. It was carved of the 
Witch-Elm wood. Its eyes being formed by inlaid bits of 
shells and tiny crystals. 

An aged man, feeble with years of possibly close study, met 
Princess Roxana. A chill of regret mingled with fear made 
the Princess step backwards towards the low opening. 

The aged man advanced towards her with a low bow. And 
his ready eye quickly detected this misgiving which betook 
her. 

Daughter, welcome! Come thou near and rest thyself. 
Thou art in trouble! 

Father I thank thee. I do come in much sorrow to learn 
of thee. 

Be it so, daughter. I can trace thy sorrows. It is fitly 
spoken the wizard can conjure the moon by his gifts. He can 
likewise succor the labouring suns. 

In faith I have learned much of thee, father. Many 
people in Cairo do speak in praises of thee. They spake 
thus. Truth is mixed up with the atmosphere and the sages 
breathe of it. Thou, father art of these sages? 

So rightly spoken, responded the man. Every sage be- 
speaks from his own instruments. My key is not the mind, 
the host-Seer. Neither the wormwood-Star. But of these 
mighty grains of sand taken from the sand mounds of the 
Nile. 

All this time they were standing close together, near to 
the opening in the tent. 

The Princess all but trembled with wonderment akin to a 
slight fear. 

The man laid his hand assuredly upon the shoulder f 
the Princess. But she drew away from his unsightly touch 
which was all but weird to her. 

Daughter, come wilt thou not rest thyself? And he 
pointed to a low stool made of shells. 


104 


A Princess OF the Orient 


The Princess very timidly obeyed him. She stepped 
closer, she reclined herself upon the stool. 

She sat before him, filled with a silent awe. She looked 
into his cynical eyes. 

Then he continued. Daughter there is a legend that 
which connects the power of these grains of sand directly 
with mythical incidents of the ages past. Of this legend we 
may believe much. As much as our mind can digest of 
these tales. To-day. Of this present day, the mighty 
hidden power of these sands we know. And we can swear 
by this power. The deserts of the East, the sand of the 
morning land holds rich secret treasures of magical art. 
They do clearly lay bare secrets of the mortal mind. 

Then father. Hast thou indeed traveled far for a lenght 
of days upon hot sands, as the people relate of thee? 

Yea. I have traveled far and upon the burning sands with 
my feet uncovered. I have thus searched for hidden arts. 
By the Sun, I traveled. Likewise I sought by the moon. 
And in the darkest night not to be delayed in my journey. I 
have traveled alone, with the firefly fastened to my hands. 
Upon my feet. And by these countless continuous years of 
study I do now trace my lines by any light. 

The quaint old man paused at this point. He looked upon 
the lovely face of the Princess and he there beheld a palid 
light of fear. 

Daughter I would have thee take this box. Hold it. Ex- 
amine its contents. And speaking thus, he held a queer box; 
and with trembling fingers she took the petite box. She 
sate mute in silent wonder. She seemed unable to unclasp 
the curious box, she lifted her eyes and the eyes of the Sage 
were penetrating her face, intently, with almost a severity. 

I am waiting, were the words coming from him. Where- 
upon she opened the box. 

Within it she found a skin-bag containing seven strings 
two toads’ feet holding a heart wrapped in a bat’s wing and 
round this paper were some unintelligible cyphers. 

She glanced up at the wizard. He lifted to his lips a cup 
covered with odd designs. In this cup was honey and soma. 

To respond to her silent wonders he, with an almost idly 
expression spake. 

’Tis the honey that is sweet, also the bee that stingeth! 
And having uttered these words he automatically placed his 
hands into a shell box of sands. And he became stupified, 
his words were low but distinct. 


A Princess of the Orient 


105 


Behold the marvelous statue of Venus! Its delicately 
made altar laden fragrant with newly blown white roses. 
The free buds of the roses. The joyous birds of the open 
fields, the frivolous butterflies, even the brilliant humming 
birds dare not linger round this altar. Lo, it is builded for 
Love’s throne. O, fairest daughter of the Persian Empire, 
long ago thou didst place one red rose upon this altar. An 
offering of thy burning love upon this altar of innocence. 
Boldly thou hast worn the misty veil of free confidence. It 
did only serve to blind the goodly sense of thy mind, in as 
much, as thou hast forsaken thy father, thy people, thy 
lands for one stranger Knight of Egyptian faith. And more. 
A worthless gentleman. 

’Tis late to warn thee, daughter. The game is spent. The 
turbulent sands of trouble cruelly whirl, they are blinding 
thy eyes, upon this hour. Arise, my child of the foreign 
land. Take heart with greatest courage. Knowst thou one 
joy can ne’er be taken but something is given. The winds 
play upon their errands of mercy until enfin. One holy hour 
of Communion, an awakening doth shend goodly sense upon 
thy newer understanding. This understanding my child, 
doth hold important steps. And all shall be shaped into a 
beautiful ending for thee. Thy gushing love, hast suffered 
thee greatly. But, for thy rightly fortune. Thy steps have 
not been fruitless. Thy sorrows sink in gayest form. Thou 
didst give thy ear to keen understanding. Go. Hence from 
this life of careless pleasure. Prepare thyself for a better, 
a worthy life. For the dignity of a noble life. A life of 
much content, is upon thee. And soon. 

As the wizard faltered, the Princess arose. Then turning 
again, she beheld the eyes of the wizard now in wide stare. 
She hastily threw a hand full of silver rings upon the stool. 
She left the tent. She was too much awed to hear more. 

The sand wizard stood in the doorway of his tent. He 
sheltered his eyes with his hand, he followed the form of 
the Princess. On she, with unfaltering steps, sped. The 
blazing colours of the oyster shell roadway made her form 
visible. She crossed the sand mounds. And then, she was 
lost to his sight. 

The Princess was walking blindly upon her way with her 
gaze fastened upon the white dust and sands beneath her 
feet. 

Princess Roxana! At the sound of her spoken name, she 
vaguely stopped. 


106 


A Princess of the Orient 


Before her stood, M. Theron with his turban in his hand. 

Greetings Theron! Came in hasty words, from the 
Princess. 

Thou art far from thy apartments, and alone, dearest 
Princess. Dost thou not fear danger within the sand 
mounds? Theron ’s face was of a mean countenance to her. 

I never fear, Theron. I love the open fields. These sand 
mounds are very dear to me. 

What hast caused thee to venture so far from the city, 
may I make bold to inquire of thee, dear Princess. 

For an open walk. Only. To watch the gondolas as they 
cruise up and down this quaint little bay. Are they not 
truly picturesque? How they sail upon the waters, so silent- 
ly. So gracefully! And even the ripples play in pretty 
circles. 

A loud bell-toll sounded loudly for the air was light and 
clear. A gondola was launched upon the port landing near 
where they were standing. It lay swerving backward and 
forward as the light winds carried it. 

A guide dressed in a short tunic wearing a turban, sat in 
one end of the gondola musing with the choppy water waves 
which were dashing against the gondola. 

Princess Roxana and Theron were held there by fascina- 
tion. The fascinating mist that which steeps every ripple of 
all waters. From the saucy brook to the savage ocean. 

Princess, this gondola is a pleasure gondola. Wouldst 
thou not enjoy a sail upon the bay? 

Thank thee, Theron. It would be a pleasant hour. It 
would be most charming for the bay is beautiful, today. 
And, how I do love the water Theron. 

And Theron assisted the Princess into the yellow gondola. 
The bell tolled several times: 

Then the guide perceiving no other passenger. Pushed 
the gondola away from its port. 

It sailed out into the transparent water. And they sat 
in the center of the gondola. 

They looked from both sides, for the view was clear and 
distinct. And each fell into a dreamy silence and not an- 
other word was spoken between them. 

Suddenly. The Princess touched Theron upon his arm. 
He startled and turned to her. 

There, there, Theron. Upon the low bridge beyond us. 

Who is it. Princess? Queried Theron as his eyes followed 
the finger of the Princess. 


A Princess of the Orient 


107 


It is. Yea. It is Lady Vivian and by her side is Lady 
Catherine. It is they, Theron. They are waving their hands 
to us. Canst thou not see them? 

And the Princess waved her silken scarf to greet them. 
While Theron, with an irritated mis-doubt, lifted his turban. 
And his face became sullenly shadowed. 

And the gondola sailed on, down the bay. And it was a 
pretty sight to the eyes of the two ladies, who standing upon 
this bridge strained their eyes to follow the course of the 
gondola which was bearing the Princess and Theron, upon 
the sunny waters. 

A youth reclined in the gondola and he was a player of 
some stringed instrument. And he was singing to the tones 
of his instrument. Barcolle, in most excellent voice. 

This gondola was of deepest yellow in colour, which cast 
a reflection of gold upon the bay-waters. For the sun was 
dazzling. The canopy of black made a restful shade for this 
gondola. An entrancing fascination filling the hearts and 
minds of the Princess and Theron! For the winds of heaven 
seemed mixed with sweetest emotion, the soft scent which 
from the poppy flows, the sweetest tones from the linnets 
falls, and the bay with its wealth of clear waters mirrored 
the scene and painted a picture. Unsurpassed. By the abodes 
of the gods. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

In The Mulberry Grove. 

The roadway leading into the clear green fields, enchanted 
the Persian Princess. She walked with steps that were a 
rythme. After returning into her apartments from her 
cruise upon the sunny bay with Theron, the Princess took 
her petted gazelle and set out to walk into the fields across 
the Nile. The day was still young. She was filled with a 
vigorous joy, for she found the day sublime. Her petted 
gazelle was her only companion. It playfully led the way. 
It would turn in its capers, then wait for her, as if he under- 
stood her enthusiasm was all in fire. In another bound he 
would scamper out again. Ahead of her. All the fresh 
glories of Nature showered both man and dumb animal with 
new fancies. To the Princess. The carols of the song birds 
in the fields bore greetings. Occasionally the Princess would 
halt to pluck a wild grown lily. She stopped and would 
stand in quiet admiration of the fields, the groves and the 
wild birds soaring above her. In the near distance she could 
see the cactus hedge. It marked the entrance of the vast 


108 


A Princess of the Orient 


mulberry grove. Approaching this grove she came upon 
some laborers. These laborers were just without the cactus 
hedge, and they were filling the water troughs, that which 
led into this grove. 

The poor Egyptian wearing loose brown coarse cloaks, 
stood with steady aim grinding the Sakiylh or the water- 
wheel. 

These water wheels were horizontal wheels. Each turned 
by a pair of cows connected with a vertical wheel which was 
on the same axis as another round wheel, in which were 
earthen pots. In these pots, the water was raised and in 
turn poured into long troughs leading into the ditches of the 
groves. 

The Princess stood some time watching this great power- 
ful wheel as it worked in its continual grind. Her gazelle 
capered with the plovers that were prattling in the dripping 
water of the trough. Pendant soon tiring of this, she walked 
leisurely on finding her way into a narrow glade. The glade 
was darkened. It was seemingly untraveled. The way 
led through the cactus hedge into a mulberry grove. 

Cautiously she listened. She stood quite motionless. For 
she was met with peculiar sounds. A sawing of timber it 
seemed. Her gazelle without apparent fear continued to 
caper just ahead of her. She then ventured a few steps 
closer. Louder the noise from the secluded glade. As it 
were, she beheld each, every shrub bush heavy with butter- 
flies. 

Many moments she stood watching these beautiful butter- 
flies. And this noise so hard and grinding was' the noise of 
their feeding. This noise deafened the Princess. It was 
most tiresome and she passed on. Leaving the shady glade 
she went into a rolling open space. And within the space. 
There too, she encountered a shower of butterflies. They all 
but darkened the light of day with their outstretched wings 
and their thick numbers. 

The mulberry trees were some leafless. Some bursting 
into a new foilage. Some heavy with beautiful rich green 
leaves. It was not the beauty of the trees in the groves that 
charmed her most. The beautuous colourings, the varieties 
of the magnificent, the dainty butterflies held her fancy. 
Steadfast. In this shower of butterflies the irridescent 
colouring of the mingled hues blazed in one gorgeous beauty. 

It was a panorama of brilliant colours. The blue winged 
butterfly of Kashmeer with the white and pale yellow spe- 


A Princess of the Orient 


109 


cies. The humming Bird-Hawk so demure was almost hid- 
den by the huge Purple Emperor. And by the fiery orange 
golden body, the crimson beasted Bird winged butterfly. 

The peacock butterfly, this majestic leader seemed to 
challenge the opaque Marble white. And quite boldly, like- 
wise haughtily. The Peacock mingled in the midst of them 
all. 

A splendid study in Nature! The Princess was puzzled 
at this discovery of these butterflies. Then. She under- 
stood. The white mulberry planted and nutured in such 
numbers were for the rearing of the Silkworm. This for the 
manufacture of silks had become a government monoply in 
Egypt. The silk worm in eating these leaves developed 
spinning their cocoon. 

What workings of Nature! These silk worms so homely 
so unapproachable to the human touch, a product of these 
brilliant butterflies. How gracefully, with what natural ease 
they flitted about her. And just beyond the grasp of her 
anxious hand. 

She watched them. She admired them. Then in turn, she 
went aside to the homely repugnent worm wriggling so un- 
canny, just within the touch of the her reluctant finger tips. 

So impossible it seemed to her, that the silkworm would 
feed only thirty days upon the leaves of these mulberry 
trees. Then the oval cocoon would be produced. A close 
tissue of fine silk which would unravel to the lenght of eleven 
hundred yards. 

In truth. This spun worm was a marvel. She looked 
down upon the soft folds of her silken robe. She looked 
upon the coarse spun worm. She lifted her eyes to the 
leafless trees of the mulberry grove. Alack! The trees 
which did appear so awkard in their nakedness to her, only 
the moment past. Now bore a newer significance. A sacri- 
fice. The white leafy trees which lay athwart within the 
grove from the barren trees, to the hedges all covered in the 
distance. All. Swelled in new beauty to her. Seemingly 
with a reverence, the Princess spake aloud. It is fitly spoken. 
That the purpose of life is life! 

And thus, lost in this admiration she seated herself upon 
the ground. She fell to meditating. All the while she 
fondled her gazelle which had poised itself just in front of 
her. 

She idly gathered together a few twigs from the fallen 
mulberry tree. She sat weaving a wreathe. Suddenly. A 


110 


A Princess of the Orient 


quicken step caused her to lift her head, from her reverie. 
She lifted her eyes and before her stood Canterre. 

Princess Roxana, the twigs! Drop them. Do not touch 
them! Excitedly cried Canterre. And the Princess grasped 
them closer in her amazement. 

Goodly sir Canterre. These are but the fallen twigs from 
the mulberry tree. I have not broken any of them from the 
trees, she responded as she glared at his face, which was 
overcast with a horror. 

But. Thou must not gather them, Princess. 

I prythee I were but weaving, a withe with these fallen 
twigs, with these white seed daisies, responded the Princess. 

Thou seemingly dost not know these twigs are poison. 
Rank poison. Princess. 

Poison? Thou indeed dost surely mistake, Canterre. They 
are from the mulberry trees nutured herein by the govern- 
ment. This is the government grove, Canterre. And she 
smiled assuredly. 

But, Princess Roxana. I tell thee they are poison. The 
caterpillar has been upon them. Seeth thou this is his trail. 
The poison from this caterpillar is the most fatal of all 
poisons. 

Then Canterre with his walking stick traced the mark- 
ings of the caterpillar. 

Suddenly he stood aghast. He bent over her and he ex- 
amined her hands, closely. He found the fatal mark appear- 
ing slowly upon her left hand. 

And the blue spot grew more visible. 

Canterre, it is there! I can plainly trace it, cried the 
Princess in alarm. 

Alas! Princess it is there. But. Now for quicke relief. 

The Princess stood in awe. She trembled with agitated 
fear. Her face livid, then white. 

Canterre, there is the great physician. He doth reside 
within Cairo. Let us go to him at once. 

My Princess, I fear this man can not heal this poison. It 
is a deadly poison, responded Canterre gravely. 

But, this^man is of great repute. I feel greatest faith in 
his skill, Canterre. 

Nay. Princess this medicine man, can not heal this pois- 
on. It has been given as true evidence that this poison can 
not be healed except by divine power. 

As Canterre spake these startling words, the Princess 
looked despairingly at him. 


A Princess of the Orient 


111 


Ah! Princess, thou art injured! These words broke upon 
them and turning they met the childish inquiries of Rubyat. 
And she ran to the Princess. 

Rubyat, responded Canterre. The Princess is poisoned. 

Poisoned Princess, by a reptile? 

Nay. By the caterpillar, child. Come Rubyat. Thou 
art familiar with all Egyptian groves. Tell me. Hast thou 
ever heard of this venomous caterpillar? 

Oh! Many, many times, Canterre, I have heard father 
speak of it. In faith, he says it is always incurable, the 
touch of it. 

Then Rubyat recalled her words in quick confusion, as 
she noted the effect of her words upon the Princess. 

But, my Princess it is sometimes healed, stammered the 
girl. 

Then Rubyat faltered as she examined the marked and 
spotted hand of the Princess. 

Ah! Princess, there is a physician who can heal this 
poison. He resides within the large temple. 

The Princess looked at Canterre with a lightning glance. 
Rubyat continued with excited breathe. 

Princess, I know this physician can heal the poison. 

They both looked at the stem face of Canterre as he 
raised his hand to them. 

I know for I have heard it many times, that not even this 
reputed physician can heal this poison. But hold! I know 
of a cure for it. 

Canterre! Exclaimed the Princess. 

Yea. But if ye accept of it I know not, replied Canterre. 

Canterre, I prythee I will accept of it, responded the 
Princess calmly. 

Perhaps! And Canterre looked earnestly into her up- 
lifted eyes, then he began, as if in doubt. 

My Princess, Thou of the oriental faith, hast a belief in a 
cycle of gods. 

While I have a belief in but one Saviour. I worship but 
one God. Thou dost worship many. Once were there, upon 
the head of my Saviour a crown of thorns. This crown he 
wore. 

A crown of thorns? asked the wondering Rubyat. Had 
he sinned so against the gods, that he was punished? 

Nay, my child. There were no other gods. My people 
do not believe in the workings of these collected cruel gods. 
The same that thy people do reverence. 


112 


A Princess of the Orient 


We do not believe in idols. We believe in the one Master. 
The one Saviour. 

And the Princess listened in a vague manner. A most 
vague manner mingled with both fear and pain. While 
Rubyat looked in wonderment upon the face of the Princess. 
Then Canterre continued. 

I have one thorn. A thorn that which has been taken from 
the crown of thorns which my Saviour once wore upon His 
head. It is divine with a healing power. 

A thorn from the crown worn upon the head of thy God? 
Where didst thou find it? And where is thy God, Canterre? 

Canterre turned to the Princess. 

My Princess, this thorn is from the crown of thorns which 
was once placed upon the head of my Saviour. And a 
Greek Emperor gave it to me. This great and mighty Em- 
peror gave the thorn to me as a Knightly honour. 

A Greek Emperor, broke from the lips of both ladies. 

Canterre smiled with a nod of his head. Then he drew 
from a leathern bag which he wore hanging round his neck. 
The Thorn. 

Rubyat, assist me. We must bind the thorn upon the 
poisoned hand of the Princess. Since thou dost so consent, 
my Princess. 

Silently Rubyat obeyed Canterre. And the Princess re- 
mained quite overcome. 

Canterre placed the thorn upon the blue spot, while 
Rubyat held it in place. And he bound it upon the hand. 
He tore a strip from the silken shawl of the Princess, and 
this he used for a bandage. 

Canterre I know not this God of whom thou hast spoken. 
The God whom thou dost worship. Neither. Do I answer 
thee. Nay. Replied the Princess. 

Ah! my Princess. Soon. Very soon shalt thou witness 
the healing power of this thorn. For my God is Father Al- 
mighty. My God is just. My God is beautiful and like- 
wise. He delights in beauty. He promises through the 
Christ who died for us. That. For victory, for service. 
There sufficient strenght would be for thee and for me. 

And the halo of light that wreathed Canterre’s uncovered 
head fell like a benediction upon the mystified Princess. 

Calmly, almost cooly she raised her face up to his face. 
And she softly spake. 

Canterre would I knew thy faith! It sounds like a beau- 
tiful dream. 


A Princess of the Orient 


113 


But Canterre answered her not. He placed his turban 
upon his head. He, then turned to Rubyat. 

Come, child let us assist the Princess. Down the lane, at 
the end of the lane, there stands a carriage. 

Canterre had passed the carriage of Lady Vivian which 
stood at the end of this lane, and as he had entered this 
grove only a short time before. 

Then Canterre and Rubyat led the Princess down the 
rounding lane. And in a deceitful bend in this lane they en- 
countered Lady Vivian who walked briskly towards them. 
She was alone and unattended. She faltered as she was met 
with the three people. Then. A jealousy lighted her eye 
and she did not speak. Rather. Did she keep her head and 
face turned away from them. 

Lady Vivian, exclaimed Canterre. Thou art in goodly 
time. The Princess has been poisoned by the caterpillar. 
Come nearer. Behold the poison. 

Then he hesitated, for he detected the countenance of 
Lady Vivian in vivid colouring. Whereupon hearing his 
words Lady Vivian’s face mellowed with sympathy. She 
stepped closer to the Princess. And her words were sweetl}^ 
spoken as her eyes were lowered upon the bandaged hand. 

Oh! My Princess I am sorry. Come thou art too faint 
to walk farther. My carriage stands at the end of this 
lane. We will assist thee into the carriage and bear thee to 
thy apartments. 

Good and true Lady Vivian, responded Canterre. I had 
but assumed the bold privilege of using thy carriage. Even 
before thou didst approach. 

A smile of more than pity for the Princess, passed over 
the face of Lady Vivian. 

The party walked down this lane. And reaching the 
carriage very soon. 

The Princess for the entire distance had walked between 
Lady Vivian and Canterre. While Rubyat walked behind 
them bearing the shawl of the Princess, and her tunic. After- 
ing walking but a short distance. Suddenly the Princess be- 
came uncertain in her steps. And she seemed all but too 
faint to walk farther. 

Canterre, may we not recline the Princess against this 
hedge. Go thou to the outer edge of this grove, it will be 
much closer. And there in the landing. Rather. The platform 
at the ending of the lane stands my carriage. Say unto my 
carriage man that he is to enter, into the private estate across 


114 


A Princess of the Orient 


this lane for a short distance, in coming here. By my orders, 
and tell him to come in all haste. 

Canterre hastened. While the Princess reclined against 
the hedge. And Lady Vivian and Rubyat kept close watch 
over her. 

They well knew the Princess was becoming faint and ill. 
Lady Vivian with nervous fingers tightened the silken 
bandage which held the Sacred thorn upon the poisoned 
hand. Gently she caressed the feverish head and kindly she 
spake to the Princess, with all tenderness. 

Alack! The Princess was fast becoming ill. And she 
seemed weakened. 

The pretty face of little Rubyat, with her laughing eyes, 
now in frightened glance and the lovely face of Lady Vivian 
struck a chord in tune to symphonic tones and fired the 
Princess to a quiet, steady patience. But not a word was 
spoken. 

Canterre soon returned, seating himself in the carriage. 
Carefully they placed the Princess into the carriage. They 
made her comfortable and she lay with her head in the lap 
of Lady Vivian. Her eyes half closed with restless quivers. 

Canterre and Rubyat sat close beside them. Rubyat 
still holding the Princess’s shawl and tunic. 

Canterre remained quiet the entire drive. The drive was 
fast. Too. It was careful. Their anxious watches steadfast 
with. Perhaps. A too tardy kindness for this lonely girl, 
held them with a penance, which held them in firm senti- 
ments. 

Lady Vivian glanced at Canterre. His face was stern. He 
was looking out of the carriage, his eyes seemed in another 
land. He unconsciously turned his head. His eyes met the 
eyes of Lady Vivian, whereupon she flushing, turned her 
eyes away from him. 

And the carriage sped on towards the apartments of the 
Princess. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

The Sale of Bonds, 

Good sirs, I believe we have found the wheel of triumph. 
The saving power of our Party. 

Verily spake another. I too believe this one, a mighty 
strong scheme. 

Hold! speak not so freely for thou mayst hold too high 
hopes of this scheme, spake another member of this board. 


A Princess of the Orient 


115 


And they all turned and looked with impatience upon this 
man of so rugged a countenance. 

Upon my faith, Armos there can be none other scheme 
open for the board to promote. These irrigation squares 
come forth to our quickened relief. Yea. These are stones 
breathing. They are speaking for us. They hurl victory to 
our party. 

The speaker looked singularly dull, thought Armos. 

True my fellow men. The outcome is this tawny mane — 
This foam boiling, billowing on its waters. It is of excellent 
goodly fortune. 

All eyes were turned again upon Armos. And he remained 
quiet. 

I have not one fear, voiced another. A modest appearing 
man who spake in dignified tones. 

And that. The people. But he was interrupted. 

Fie! For has it not been the usual custom of the machine 
to operate within closed walls? Are we not each, every mem- 
ber of this board, a Satrap of the law for our own elected 
term of years? 

But our people? They will begin to question us. They 
will ask. Dost thou offer the seats in the courts of Justice 
for sale? 

Bafile! What worth are the questions of the common? 
This clan like the country of Egypt surrender their sovereign 
authority over civic affairs of the city. It would be contrar^^ 
to the liberty of our people. It would be dangerous, most 
dangerous, for us to respond to the common — this phrase. 
Thy power is law, an unrestricted power to assert to this 
board 1 

Fellow men at no time has our city ever consented to the 
exercise of the powers or the opinions specified in common 
voice, treating of the terms the conditions of the political 
machine. In this any machine workings would be uneffec- 
tual. 

M. Clevelande arose at this point of the discussion. 

Sirs this assembly of notables must advise concerning the 
sale of these bonds. 

The latest report received from the Privy Council was far 
from satisfying. For the country’s debt so enormous was di- 
vided into small debts. The loans thus received were made 
to be repaid in twenty years with an interest of eight per- 
cent and with a sinking fund of two per cent. A second loan 
with interest of seven per cent, with interest of three per 


116 


A Princess of the Orient 


cent to be redeemed in ten years. Then, there were a number 
of smaller loans each providing its own measure by which 
it could be redeemed. Such as the people paying their taxes 
a term of years in advance. With the privilege of paying it 
in installment terms. Should the people not pay in install- 
ment plan, but pay cash. The reduction of all the interest 
with a per cent of the capital would be deducted. 

For this reason I fear gentlemen that our countrymen are 
so burdened with this overhanging debt that it will be nec- 
essary for us to set about at once to transact the sale of 
these irrigation squares bonds with a foreign government. 
Our treasury department has the authority to sell the irri- 
gation squares bonds to reinburse the general fund expended 
for the irrigation construction made out of current revenue. 

This new debt on the irrigation fields we purpose to sep- 
erate from the state debt. This to which the railway and 
the harbor dues do yield a great relief, with a bonus of ten 
percent of their earnings. And Sirs. Since a consolidation 
of civic loans is impossible, therefore I can conceive of none 
other than to depend upon foreign relief. 

And M. Clevelande breathed queerly as he seated himself 
at the long table. 

Our president is of goodly judgement, spake Armos. The 
Persian Shah may consent to the purchase of these bonds. 
Because the Shah has a richly filled treasury with no out- 
break likely. At least. Suchwise. I am advised. 

Persia is richer than any of our neighboring countries. For 
mark ye. Their financial reports are amazing. They are 
uplifting. Theirs is a country for which its people are striv- 
ing with true sentiments and with a strong loyalty. 

Such a scheme would necessitate the Privy Council to 
communicate with the Shah. This would cost much time 
spake Calies. 

True. The time is not long for us. The time is ripe now 
and the need for a quicke action is most urgent. 

Then it was. A hushed silence centered upon the entire 
board. 

And M. Clevelande stood before them again. 

Gentlemen of this board have we now agreed upon a plan. 
The plan of approaching Percia with these bonds? 

Aye! Aye! voted each member present. 

Then. So be the wish. The vote of members thereof. 
The Privy Council must appoint one of its members to in- 
terview the Persian Shah. 


A Princess of the Orient 


117 


Mr. President, surely thou canst not assume such a plan? 
To interview the Persian Shah in person! Days and days 
will be required for such a journey. 

Nay. The journey will not be so long. And the only 
means by which to approach the Shah is by a communicant. 
Whereupon agreed. We must appoint a communicant for 
this purport. 

At lenght the president raised his voice again. I appoint 
Calies to this commission. 

A murmur went through the chapel. And Calies arose. 
His large pleasing face wore a visible, perplexed look. All 
eyes were turned upon him. 

Mr. President. I stand ready to prepare myself to convey 
the communicant purport of this sale unto the Persian Shah. 

Likewise I remain in prompt readiness to serve the Privy 
Council. 

Then at once Calies. Go thou prepare thy purport. 

And then the Privy Council. This body of pyretic men 
adjourned. With the very spirit of earnestness in goodly 
results breathing about them. Perchance. 

In this breathe was a shadow. As there oft times is 
fashioned in the core of a great duty. A shadow question- 
ing their devotedness to their party cause. 

And they all. Calies not the least of them. Answered. 
Forward! 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

The Poison Ring. 

Walpole talks of ^‘a man and his price” 

Lost to a ditty queer — 

The sale of a Deputy — Acting — Vice. 

Resident-Engineer, 

Bought like a bullock, hoof and hide. 

By the Little Tin Gods on the Mountain side! 

— Public Waste. Kipling. 

Fetch the Amphora! Fill the goblets to overflowing with 
reddest Wine! 

The guests each were wearing a chaplet of the lotus bound 
upon the forehead. 

And like Bernice’s locks in radiant light, the tresses of 
the ladies fair, coquetteously lay enshrined in rich jewels, 
with sparkling gems. The rapturous tones of the music be- 
witched by the mellow shades of the tapering lights, the gay 
company. All shed a delicious delicacy. It doth seem be- 


118 


A Princess of the Orient 


fitting to breathe a pleasant hope! Around this lotus foun- 
tain. 

An honour unto the coronal of Bacchant for this night 
Bacchus doth reign God of sweet pleasures. 

Seated at one long feasting table. The lamps of ointment 
being removed, the guests were feasted. With feast rich and 
served with wines rare. 

The guests beseeched the Prince Governor M. Theron for 
a toast. And to this he responded graciously. 

The music was hushed. The incense lamps hung quiet. 
The guests felt a thrill of keen pleasure as Theron arose. All 
eyes were fastened upon him. 

Fair ladies of the Court! Noble gentlemen, my guests! 
Unto thee greetings! Permit me to remark. Upon a lesser 
occasion, unto a less charming gathering than is here as- 
sembled at this feasting table. I might find it fitting to 
give an original toast. Cependant upon this night. The oc- 
casion of love, of feast and of wine, whereupon the god 
Bacchus doth smile. I shall recite a bit of verse, for thy 
pleasure. I do not now stand upon the fetich stone of Apollo. 

Methinks. I mayst swear as truly. For I stand squarely 
upon the skin’ of the tiger. I search, continued Theron. I 
find not within the storehouse of memory, one toast good 
enough. One in which may be found attributes for both 
the fair ladies, for the gentlemen, gallant. The verse mav 
be terse. I find it doth honestly portray its goodly sense of 
the Egyptian. At the last assembly of the Romance Re- 
citers. There was one among our members, who to employ 
the law of talion in response to a satire from one whom he 
classed a mere Whipster. Quoted this verse as having found 
it in the play entitled — Civilization. 

^‘In my barbarian days, I spake the truth: 

Wronged not my neighbor: paid back benefits, 

With benefit. And gratitude to boot; 

Dealt justly: held a friend to be a gift. 

Precious as stars dr opt down from heaven: bowed 
Before the works of a God; beheld in them 
His Presence, palpable as an altar. 

And worshipped Heaven at the mountain's foot. 

But this 

Was barbarism. I am wiser now: 

More civilized. I know the way to lie, 

To cheat, deceive and be a zealous Christian! 


A Princess of the Orient 


119 


Theron finished the verse. It contained a weird meter. A 
moment lulled. 

Then he spake lightly. For the guests were not amused 
by such a spirit. 

My dear friends, this is just a bit of humor. Not praised 
for a motto. Not for any literary excellence. Neither doth 
it contain a fact. 

As he faltered. A look swept across the faces of nearly 
every guest. And Theron read the august condemnation of 
his borrowed humor. 

Avast! Think ye my guests. Not too seriously. This 
satire, this true domination fitted to the Egyptian. I recite 
it. In a coaxful humor. I teem it not justly, myself. And 
who is there among my guests who is a more loyal Egyptian 
than I. 

Methinks, M. Theron. That is a mere coax. A mean 
portrayal of the Eg5^tian. 

All turned to the Knight who so ventured so free an 
opinion. 

Some smiled at this bold speaker. Others frowned upon 
his discourtesy. 

With a manner of merriment, Theron tossed his head. He 
laughed lightly. Then, he continued. 

My guests, I prythee. Now recline thy ear unto the wit, 
the wisdom of Canterre. Who. I know will accept of this 
privilege. Of reciting to this brilliant assembly. I have 
now. The very great pleasure to present Canterre. 

Theron slipped into his chair and Canterre arose before 
the guests. 

He had discerned the displeasure of the guests, as they 
gave their audience to Theron. 

Goodly sirs! Gentle ladies! I act in excellent reput as 
a toast master. Ii\ that I follow the order of our brilliant 
host. And goodly friend. Theron. I recite a snatched 
verse. One which of all the bits of verse I have clamped in 
my ivory writing frame. I deem it, especially fitting for 
this feasting occasion. It is taken from the Romance of the 
noted reformer, the masterful writer. Votre Voltaire. 

At this moment, whispers sounded. Some whispered. 
Canterre is a valuable friend. He is a rival. Behold he 
turns continuously to Lady Vivian. He challenges Theron in 
every move. With every glance of his eye. Now. He 
makes bolder. 


120 


A Princess of the Orient 


So be it, whispered another. Me thinks it doth require 
no art to find in his face an intense lo\^e for Lady Vivian. 

Upon this confusing moment, for nearly every guest 
turned in lightning glance first upon Lady Vivian then to 
Canterre. As the distinct voice of Canterre was heard in 
this toast. 

Lady Vivian turned then to Canterre, likewise. When 
the rich tones of his voice fell upon her. And with a secret 
delight she drank in his every word. 

”Uarc de Nembrod est celui 
de la guerre: 

Uarc de V amour est celui 

du bonheur. 

Vous le portez. Par vous ce Dieu 
vainquer 

Est devenu le maitre de la terre 

Trots Rots puissantSy trots rivaux 
Aujourd’huiy 

Osent pretendre a Vhonneur de 
vous plaire, 

Je ne sais pas qui votre Coeur prejere 

Mats Vuniverse sera jaloux de luiT 

This translated read. 

The bow of Nimrod is that of war; 

The bow of Love is that of happiness y 

Which you possess. Through you this 
Conquering God 

Has become master of the Earth. 

Three powerful Kings — three rivals now. 

Dare to aspire to the honour of pleasing you. 

I know not whom your heart may prefer 

But the universe will be jealous of him!” 

It would have been a rare question to have asked the 
worth of the toast. 

Canterre took his seat again. Amid applause. There was 
a brilliant fountain in the upper end of the hall. And the 
light of this fountain fell upon the faces of the guests. It 
was a vignette. They vigorously responded to Canterre’s 
toast. In this polished scholar they always found a delicate 
wit. 

‘Xharmante! Une trh folk sante!” Mais Monsieur M. 
Theron etait blanc de rage. 

A stir caused the guests to turn abruptly. 


A Princess of the Orient 


121 


Theron had moved and was then standing over Lady 
Vivian. In almost audible phrases. He challenged Canterre. 

My sweet Vivian, breathe thy magic spell over me again, 
as of old. The flame of love, dear thou didst fan into fire 
within my breast even upon this moment. It burns wicked. 
It is a fierce passion. Nay! I speak not in silly enthusiasm. 
My love, like yester-days, I picture in fancy. The to-mor- 
row and the following morrow. And on, on into all. Every 
morrow which shall crown our lives. Ah! fetch back. The 
hours gone. Oh! ye gods, how I love thee, my dear beauti- 
ful Vivian. And Theron’s words became faint. 

Now Theron’s face was blurred with emotion. And Lady 
Vivian was enraged. 

While Canterre who was a witness to it all. Guessed the 
meaning of Theron’s words. 

Surely Lady Vivian’s face would not wax such insolent 
rage. For no other cause. 

Canterre turned aside in some light gossip with a charm- 
ing lady who was seated by his side. 

Lady Vivian drew herself away haughtily, and quite loos- 
ing her usual easy elegance. Then. Theron challenged Can- 
terre ’s purpose once more, by humbling himself again to 
Lady Vivian’s hauteur. 

My beloved, thou dost remain the loveliest, the most 
charming in this great feasting hall, to-night. 

Theron, I would ask of thee. Assign thy attentions unto 
thy guests. They wish it most. 

Who? Sweet Vivian could I wish to please more than thy 
charming self? And if I perceive correctly. The guests are 
all happily amused. Thou only dost sit apart from the 
merry guests. 

Leaning over Lady Vivian’s drooping head, Theron smiled. 
And this malicious smile withered Lady Vivian to an intense 
heat of embarrassment before all the eyes of the other 
guests. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

A Bribe. 

Canterre stood in a modest attitude. 

Unnoticed he listened to the boasting words of the Prince 
Governor M. Theron. 

Theron sat chatting with a number of his political work- 
ers. His face rested in a light of self satisfaction. He spoke 
too. With slippery terms these phrases, which he thought 
would amuse his listeners. 


122 


A Princess of the Orient 


It has been fitly spoken by the traditions of Old Eg5rpt, 
that a sightless seer may possess charmed magic, one that is 
unspeakably felt by its renown. So, this old party coming 
to the front once again, under the guise of some new issue. 

Its power once so great issues forth at every turn. They 
seek to install themselves with this prohibition platform. Ye 
gods, we may have a fight. This party may be liken unto 
the Rose of Jericho, when dead placed in water will come 
as unto new life. My fellowmen, their man. This new 
leader, so named Canterre. I like him not. As a man I 
distrust him. His movements have been clear. They are 
concise. Yet in and through it all, he seems to be working 
under such a thick covering. It can not be probed. The 
tax industries. The outlying districts. The prohibitionists 
are fired by his force. And the temple worshippers govern- 
ing the enormous silken industries are the strongest assests 
for him. 

At this point of the conversation Theron turned his head 
slightly. His eyes fell upon Canterre with a startle. 

While Canterre faced him with a calm assurance. 
Mingled with displeasure. 

And Theron ’s face was perplexed. Then he arose and ex- 
tended his hand to him. 

Canterre, pardon ! I were not aware of thy presence here. 

As Canterre took the profered hand of Theron, he scrutin- 
ized the face of all who stood before him. 

Greeting Theron! I entered the chapel but now. Pent 
etre. Too much unnoticed. I came wholly unannounced. 
I prythee, thy goodly pardon. 

Indeed. Thou hast come at a most opportune moment, 
responded Theron: 

Then turning to his comrades he beckoned to them say- 
ing. 

Be good enough to permit Canterre and myself to an in- 
terview. 

Whereupon the politicians immediately withdrew. Albeit, 
each glared at Canterre as they filed past him, with a sus- 
picion and with an irony mistrust. 

And Canterre bowed courteously before them as they 
passed before him. 

Theron closed the large door and seated himself before 
Canterre, in a square position. 

Canterre there remains no need of a proem for this in- 
terview. I have often heard, that there is no test of a man’s 


A Princess of the Orient 123 

ability in any department of public life more severe than 
service in friendship. 

Friendship? queried Canterre with a cynical smile upon 
his lips. 

Whereupon Theron winched under his look. 

Qua the wisdom of the tradition. The one tradition to 
which thou didst point but the moment past, my friend 
Theron. 

And these two great party leaders sat silent. All the 
while contemplating that which surely was foremost in their 
minds. 

Enftn. Theron spake with peremptory opinion. 

Canterre we were discussing the platform of thy party, as 
it were, when thou didst enter the moment past. 

My platform? Thou hast the platform before thee. For 
surely it lays pure and open. It proves itself not fertile. 
Neither weak. It is an upright platform. 

A gleam of self assurance lighted the eyes of Canterre. He 
spake with a conservation. 

Me thinks, Canterre. And. I prythee, thy most humble 
pardon. Thy party acts directly against the principles of 
a fair game in politics. 

Explain thyself sire! exclaimed Canterre for his head was 
hot with such an accusation. 

Volontiers, Canterre responded him with a forced laugh. 

Be it known the right of a political party to meet. To 
act, to promote the interest of the party is guaranteed by 
our constitution, Theron? And we are fortified by the judi- 
cial tribunal in our country as to our right legally to gather. 
And to promote for our own party. 

There is no impeachment therein. I, myself do appreciate 
this decision of the Higher Court, responded Theron. 

And Canterre continued. 

There is no concurring seperate or individual that can pro- 
hibit these meetings. 

True that remains Canterre. But there is a question 
touching upon the silken industry. This industry is a vast 
enterprise. Enormously so. Theron faltered at this point 
Canterre studied his movements. 

I presume thou dost know my party is now negotiating 
with Persia in this industry? 

So, to that end I have been informed, replied Canterre. 

It is not a matter of labour. Neither of the silks. But 
more, it is the important matter that of a market for our 


124 


A Princess of the Orient 


silks. Being acquainted with our silken industries; Can- 
terre thou dost appreciate the fact that Egypt produces more 
by far, more silks than she can use. And thus. Egypt being 
flooded with these silks which will become cheap products. 
This is the commercial question of the hour. We learn this. 
There has been professional agitators visiting our institutes 
and our associations. They are negotiating for foreign com- 
merce. And now to figure closely and with safe marks. 
Persia is the most promising country to negotiate with. 

Canterre’s eyes dwelled upon him with a severe glance. 

And what hast thou, Theron. To propose to me? I am 
thy opponent. 

I have this, answered Theron. I have much more to offer 
thee. I know the fiscal history of our country sufficiently to 
know that Egypt has invariably failed to make the proper 
market for this growing industry. And that Persia is the 
much needed market. I deem it a pitiful absurdity that 
Egypt should be wholly dependent upon foreign countries. 

But Theron. I can not quite agree with thy opinion. Can 
one country ever be so entirely independent as not to need 
her sister country? 

Rarely sol At any rate I have determined upon this plan, 
replied Theron. 

My mind doth question. I scarcely can fall upon a phrase 
to illucidate my motive. 

Theron moved uneasily. And Canterre anticipated a foul 
step. 

As it were Canterre, began Theron in slow long drawn 
tones; as if to gather assurance. If I should manage to ob- 
tain such a contract from the Persian Shah? Wouldst thou 
consider to withdraw the prohibition from thy party plat- 
form? 

Canterre was astonished. This was a proposition one 
which he had not anticipated. With greatest disdain he 
answered Theron. 

Am I to understand sir, then. That thy proposition to me 
is one to bribe me against my own party platform? ^ 

So in a plain, measure. Canterre that is my proposition 
to thee. I do not believe thy judgement is dull. More plain- 
ly. Do we want our country to be thrown into a black panic? 
And too, Canterre. This move does not stand to block the 
platform of thy party. The prohibition is a wholly foreign 
issue. It is new to the grand old party of ages back. The 
one for which thou dost stand for to-day. 


A Princess of the Orient 


125 


Then. My keen judgement was correct. I believed at 
once that thou were fearful that prohibition could both 
make and break thy own platform. Popular. Thy own keen 
wisdom bids thee clutch at this issue to strengthen thy 
party’s platform. I believed as much. 

And thou too, Canterre. Little faith indeed, dost thou 
hold in the fundamental principles of thy own party. 

Theron! Permit me. Dost thou believe that I would be 
a party to such a double play? 

In the fair name of heaven I Man is it possible that thou 
art so incapable of judging a commercial issue upon its own 
worthy merits? 

It did seem that such loyalty to any one cause or measure, 
was unthinkable to Theron ’s cunning mind. 

Manifestly. There is nothing in such a bribe for me to 
even consider, seriously. My good sense bids me scorn a 
foul play. 

Ye godsl Art thou in a jest? Or in truth. Is it thy 
heresy, thy platform principles which actuates such an 
answer. Upon me faith, my good friend Canterre. This is 
a product of the soft stuff. So named. Conscience. 

Theron, broke in Canterre with placid voice. As I en- 
tered into this chapel a moment past. Thou were in idly 
words discussing my party platform with thy political 
leaders. By providential chance. I heard thy ready com- 
ments spoken, so lightly. Thy sentiments of our sightless 
seers. In this, with and above all thy assumed satire. I 
readily detect the inborn reverence of thy country’s tradi- 
tions, is keenly alive within thee. I do not hesitate to reply 
to thy filthy bribe. Thou surely must not dare measure my 
loyalty to my cause with thy fictitious principles. 

At these words, Theron smiled. He laughed hoarsely. 

Yea Theron! Laugh. Thou faithless leader of the people. 
Go thou consult, obey the sightless seers of thy faith and 
creed. Their answers will be. It comes from the seer to 
go down to the depths of a man’s soul and nerve him up to 
indignation at a mean measure. And to a determination to 
go to do greater things. And Theron. My answer would be 
akin. 

Canterre remained standing in an attitude of contempt 
before Theron. 

Whereupon Theron still seated, continued in bursts of 
coarse laughter. He toyed with a pencil. He turned to 
Canterre with these words. 


126 


A Princess of the Orient 


Upon me faith, Canterre. I nearly forgot. The child, 
Rubyat tells me she saw the Princess Roxana with thee in 
the mulberry grove, and continued he with a malicious smile. 
How is the Princess? 

The child Rubyat is perfectly correct, responded Canterre. 

But how is the poisoned hand of the Princess? Is she 
really poisoned? 

The Princess poisoned her hand severely with the fallen 
twigs which had been covered by the caterpillars, in the mul- 
berry grove of the government. 

Indeed, quite a misfortune. I am sorry. I have not heard 
news of the Princess to-day. How does she rest? 

Quite much better, replied Canterre. The contemptuous 
smile upon the lips of Canterre told Theron that his insin- 
uation found its mark in Canterre’s pride; for several 
moments Canterre glared at him. 

And then a profound silence fell upon the whole chapel 
settling upon these two gentlemen. 

Tell me, Canterre replied Theron laughing gaily in an at- 
titude of vulgar showiness. 

Thou art well familiar with my commercial plan in the 
silken industry. Likewise. The people must know. And I 
pry thee hast thou spoken of it with the Princess Roxana? 

Insolent Dog! cried Canterre. He angrily pounded the 
table with his fist. And hastily he turned leaving the chapel. 

Theron left alone mused. He knitted his brow. He waved 
his hand above his head in gestures. 

Then abruptly he threw back his head. He laughed. 

Canterre is a spoiled Ass! 

CHAPTER XX. 

Finishing Strokes. 

When Princess Roxana had been poisoned by the twigs 
and when she had been placed in the carriage of Lady Vi- 
vian, she was driven into the palatial apartments of a court- 
ly apartment. An apartment close to the apartment of Lady 
Vivian. 

Montag drove into the inner garden of the court. Two 
footmen arranged the wide arched gate. And Princess Rox- 
ana was carried into a chamber as directed by Lady Vivian. 

For days the Princess was nursed by the tender hands of 
Lady Vivian. 

Many days after. In the silent beauty of the twilight of 
the evening. Princess Roxana ^was reclined upon a couch 


A Princess of the Orient 


127 


before the round window of her chamber. It had an over- 
look into the court garden of the King’s palace. 

Her face was wan, but her large dark eyes were animated 
with the sparkle of returning health. She was now conval- 
escent. 

She counted the days when she might altogether leave the 
sick chamber. 

Lady Vivian had gently nursed her. She comforted her 
as she suffered. 

During the several weeks in which the Princess lay ill, she 
thought intensely hard. And fast. Reviewing her life in 
Cairo. This life so wantonly lived, now, appealed to her 
quiet mind in some what different light. As never before. 
Whereinto this train of thoughts came unto her, she could 
not understand. She allowed her eyes to rest upon an oddly 
carved Ivory Owl. It was nearly a unique dimly lighted 
bronze lantern. What meaning could ever the Egyptian put 
upon such an object? Alack 1 She was not an Egyptian. 
Idly then she turned her head away from this idol and looked 
out of the opening in the chamber and she fell to watching 
the twilight shadows stealing upon her couch. From the 
coming evening. 

A decision enthusied her. She searched these twilight 
shadows for a hope. Could it spring from out of the shadow 
lines of a dying day? Could it spring from the hidden em- 
bers of her Soul’s awakening? 

The slightest shadow of beleaguer’d hope stole quietly, 
settling upon her as she listened to the sweet notes of a song 
that floated upon the breezes and fell upon her in this silent 
hour of fancy reverie. She listened charmed by the singer. 
She slowly lifted her head, arose and noiselessly imcaught 
the long glass door. She looked out into this garden. 

There below she saw an old man bent with age. He was 
the singer. She listened and she was caught by the melody. 

Ah! He may come from the Casino. But should any 
man ask of me. I could fitly answer. This man comes into 
the palace garden as a divine singer. He is the servant of 
the Muses. And delivered of Apollo. For my eyes do 
clearly behold him and he carries a branch of the Laurel. 
This the symbol of Apollo’s Inspiration. 

Now the singer walked through the garden walls, and he 
lifted his face. His eyes she could plainly see wore a far 
off look. He smiled as he sang his Verses. 


128 


A Princess of the Orient 


Surely he came but from the land of Love! So much did 
this sweet singer charm her. 

Then. Undesirably upon the ear of the Princess a step 
sounded. She looked behind her. A voice so mean in tone 
fell upon her and shattered her pretty dream. For there 
stood Theron. 

Theron I am surprised! she exclaimed in rude tones for 
she was impatient with his coming. Is this not a most un- 
timely hour for thy visit here? 

Greetings, my Princess. What matters the hour when my 
heart doth bid me here by thy side? Ah! my love thou art 
nearly restored to thy former self. My eyes do see the 
sparkle in these pretty eyes. 

The face of Theron glowed unsightly to the Princess. 

He put his arms around her slight waist and she rudely 
pushed him aside. 

Theron. Indeed, thou doth well to not come here again. 
Thy boldness doth only chill me. 

Upon me faith! My Persian Princess, my proud beauty. 
Come. Thou art peevish. Thy illness has weighed severe- 
ly, too severely upon thee. 

But the Princess drew still farther from him. 

Theron thy tones disturb me, only. Thy actions dissect 
any pleasure that may come to me. I prythee, there can be 
little in thy words, thy actions to serve me pleasantly. 

Nay! My pretty one. Thou art waxing a fruitless fury. 
Perchance. It is a playful pretense, a small artful whim? 
Come. On with beautiful dreams, my love. 

In utter scorn the Princess drew herself aloof from him. 
She lowered her eyes squarely upon him. As he attempted 
to embrace her. 

Thinkst thou, Theron I should have the kindly grace to 
waste such a bonmot upon such as thou art? I would not 
cozen the fool, his errand thereof. 

Upon me faith! My beloved I should rather. Much 
rather believe thou art in some humor of jest than to know 
thv words are spoken in truth. Baffle! It doth indeed baffle 
the gods, that the luxurious Princess should pronounce dis- 
dain. Disdain in unsightly words. Upon her lover Prince. 
It must be these idle hours have cultivated thy fury. Come. 
I have great news for thee. My sweet Princess. 

A glance of suspicion lighted her eyes. She then seated 
herself again and Theron sat upon a low stool before her. 


A Princess of the Orient 


129 


And in this light, he studied her face for a few moments si- 
lently. Then he addressed himself to her. 

Princess thou art indeed frail. Thy illness has fallen 
prey to thy convalescence. 

Albeit. Thou didst suffer intensely for I detect it in the 
lines of thy face. My love. I am very sorry; but now, I 
am most happy that thou art restored to thyself. 

True. Theron I did suffer much. Both pain and loneli- 
ness. I suffered unto a death, but I ween there shall never 
come into my life again, this pain of injured loneliness. Ah! 
Most bountiful thanks unto Canterre, I was delivered out of 
both pain and loneliness. 

Canterre? And Theron sat amazed beyond words. 

Yea! And didst thou not know that the Sacred Thorn. 
That which Canterre bound upon my poisoned hand saved 
my life? 

Surely, Princess thou canst place no such credence in the 
power of the so named. Sacred Thorn? 

Rather do I. This Sacred Thorn taken from the Crown 
of Thorns worn upon the head of his Saviour. 

His Saviour? Has this man Canterre then a religion? 
Indeed. Ha! Ha! This man has a fool’s mind swathed in 
false, in silly notions of a religion. 

Theron! As thou hast a believe conditioning life and 
death. So Canterre dost possess the right. Being a Per- 
sian I know naught of this Saviour of the Christian People. 

Bah! ’Tis but a tradition of the French. A power of 
provocation which the King of these French people do thus 
rule them with. My Princess, I feel perfectly amazed when 
I hear thee speaking of such a religion. And too thou hast 
spdien in such liberal terms. To hear thee announce that 
thy poison has been healed by such fabulous methods. Fie! 
It is but a mythical tale. This tale of the Crown of Thoms. 

The Prince Governor did not attempt to suppress a sar- 
castic smile. And this smile which quivered upon his lips, 
fired the Princess to disgust. And more, when he continued. 

My beloved thou art now healed. Thank the gods of good 
fortune. Now my plans. 

What cajolery Theron? Thou do not feign a will and de- 
sire to acquaint me with thy personal affairs. It is so unlike 
thee, Theron. 

Ye gods! What sarcastic romance my beloved. 

And they both laughed heartily. 

In truth. Princess. This is of the greatest interest to 


130 


A Princess of the Orient 


thee. It is of the greatest interest and importance to me, in 
my affairs. 

The Princess sat more erect and he leaned forward and 
kissed her hand. 

Princess, my love. Thou knowst we are in the midst of 
heated^ political times? 

Surely I know this, Theron. I hold a keen interest in this 
coming election. 

As she lowered her eyes and smiled, Theron glared at her 
with a suspicion. 

It is not my wish. Neither do I plan to thrust imperti- 
nent questionings upon thee. I would not disturb thee so. 
But I pry thee. Art thou of the opinion that the Shah, thy 
father has forgiven thy coming into Egypt? 

The Princess arose instantly and glared at him fiercely. 

My father. The Shah. He never forgives she responded 
with measured words. 

Alack 1 My dear. Too harshly thou dost judge thy hon- 
ourable father. 

She was overcome at the mention of her father. For the 
Princess did, indeed possess a sick soul filled with a longing 
for her own home. She dropped upon the divan again. Ner- 
vously clutching at the side of its damask covering. Then 
she sat upright. 

Theron I understand. Thou hast some political plot to 
draw the Shah into. It is thy mind to so involve the Shah. 

Not in truth, my Princess. I have a commercial problem 
to offer the Shah. It is not a plot. Neither is it any 
scheme. It is a commercial and a valuable problem. 

A commercial problem! exclaimed the Princess. 

His countenance slightly flushed at these words from her. 

It is the irrigation squares. They are among the most val- 
uable holdings of Egypt and I have planned to seek of the 
Persian government. To sell bonds on this track. I have 
been advised that the Persian land, is our richest neighbor. 
Her treasury is in excellent holdings. And my Princess. It 
is this capital business scheme, that compels me to approach 
the Shah. To negotiate with him for this sale of these bonds. 

Theron! And wouldst thou dare to enter back. Into 
Persia again? 

Not so. I do not plan to go into Persia myself. I am 
planning to negotiate with the Persian government through 
my agent, M. Calies. 

And then? Cooly demanded the Princess. 


A Princess of the Orient 


131 


Then, my love that is the end of it all. For I do not 
stand a beggar at the gate of the Persian government. This 
problem is a legitimate business negotiation. Both honest 
and dignified. 

And the Shah, my father? 

The Shah? Do not all important deals await his imperial 
signature? 

Truly, Theron. 

I have dared to hope. Princess Roxana. That thou might 
intercede for me. This is a most important deal and thy 
excellent judgement commends thee. 

I? Bah! It is utterly impossible. The Shah would not 
even as much as consent to give me audience for such an 
interview. 

Not so dearest. Thy father doth await thy coming back 
into Persia. I well know. And. My love, continued Theron 
for he believed the Princess had softened. Should the Shah 
refuse to accept my commercial plan. Of this I am fearful. 
Then. I shall depend upon thy efforts. 

The Princess remained sullenly attentive. 

And should my father, even above my efforts refuse thy 
offer? 

I have little fear. The Shah is too keen a ruler not to ap- 
preciate this commercial plan. He will grasp this advantage 
for the good of his own country. The Shah is fair minded. 
He is far-sighted. This transaction might mean the great- 
est strides towards new commerce negotiations which all 
neighbouring countries are striving to enter into. 

And I pry thee, Theron. What of this new commerce en- 
terprise? 

My dear it is that of forming a belt of industries. This 
is much discussed at the present time by promoters. It is 
just now ripe for a head. 

And now my love. Dost thou believe that the Shah could 
be reached to the better advantage. Rather. That is to 
say, could he be better persuaded by his lovely daughter? 

Upon this moment. Deepest thought caused a silence. A 
stillness broken only by the agitated Princess who meditated 
on the words of Theron. 

Whereupon Theron grew thoughtful and he noted how 
sullen the Princess remained. Theron, thou art in great 
error. I dare not consider such an impudent proposal. 

Impudent? Thy words are bitter. Princess. 

And less bitter than my thoughts of such an offensive 


132 


A Princess of the Orient 


plot. Thou hast been in communication with the Shah? 
And with a repugnance upon her countenance, she rudely 
grasped his arm. 

I have, my love. 

And thou who pretends such a fondness for me, why hast 
thou not told me before? Thou surely know that I am in 
despair of news of my father and from my home. Quicke 
tell me. How is it with my father? Is he in goodly health? 
She asked breathlessly. 

The Shah rests in anxious hope for thy return, my love. 
But. He may not be intoxicated with the news of thy return. 
And yea, he advises me that he is in excellent health. 

He advises thee? Why? When! 

Upon the yestem, morn. 

And for what reason? 

The commercial proposition. Princess. 

I thought. That is. Thou just told me, my father knew 
nothing of this matter as yet? Ah! Then thou hast con- 
jured all this against me to force me into the submission of 
consent. Thou ! 

Fartherest from it, my love. 

She stood directly in front of him. Answer me Theron. 
How in what manner didst thou communicate with the Shah? 

I commissioned a heralder into Persia some days past. 
Upon yestern moM I received his answer. 

But what of thy message unto the Shah? 

Theron reluctantly turned his eyes away from her. 

I apprised him of thy illness. 

My illness? 

Yea. After all were thee not ill? 

Traitor! And his answer? 

He commissioned a heralder back into Egypt. His exact 
words were these. 

I await the Princess’s return back into Persia. A father’s 
arms are open to her. I shall direct a train of attendants 
to fetch the Princess safely back. 

Father! The Princess sobbed and turned away from him. 

My love thou art well enough now to travel. Wilt thou 
not return back into Persia? 

Yea. A thousand times. When my strength permits me. 

Ah! Suppose. Perchance I say thee nay. 

The Princess started forward toward him as if to strike 
him. Then she stepped back again. She gathered the folds 
of her robe tightly round her slender body that even her 


A Princess of the Orient 


133 


robe should not touch Theron. A blaze of fire gleamed 
upon him from her two bright eyes. 

Thou? Indeed thou say me nay! 

Exactly! replied Theron. 

She tossed her head until her black braids of silken hair 
swung round her shoulders. 

She laughed frantically, then folded her arms tightly. H^r 
lips were bitter with lines of scorn. j 

Thou? By what authority dost thou assume such a 
privilege with the Princess of the Royal House? When the 
Persian Shah doth call. 

My dear Princess thou are in Cairo now. My protege. 

Peut-etre laughed the Princess. 

It is peut-Hre, my love answered Theron with a bor- 
rowed smiles. 

What dost thou mean by peut-Hre? she asked. 

I may become frank with thee, my dear. 

And if thou become frank with me, Theron. It will be 
the first, the only occasion. 

Bah! such angry passion. My love it becomes thee not. 
The lovely Princess of Persia. 

And if becoming so, it portrays the effect of thy threat 
upon me. 

Wilt thou swear to me, my love. That. To gain the Shah’s 
consent for this deal? 

Absurd ! What in the name of the heavens have I to do 
in such a great problem? Never in my life have I conferred 
with the Shah in commercial matters. Never have I con- 
ferred even with the Courtiers. 

Come my love. Constante, the governor of the Shah’s 
Council would he not serve thy will? 

Upon my faith. Constante would stand as if stricken with 
a thunder bolt, were I. The Princess Roxana to ask such of 
him. And it would be useless for he holds no power over the 
Shah. The Shah makes his own decisions. I assure thee. 

Then, there was another nobleman. One of the noble 
caste. Ah! I now recall his name. Willard! The Sovereign 
Prince Willard. It is he who stood in such goodly repute. 
He who stood well in thy kindly favour. Was it not this 
gallant Sovereign Prince Willard, who is reputed to have 
entered the great chariot race to please the Princess Roxana? 
And upon this occasion did not the Princess sit in the magnif- 
icent areana flaunting his colours. Of blue and white 
spurring him on to win in this race? Never did man drive so 


134 


A Princess of the Orient 


magnificently. So it is related by the people. Never did 
man stand. So proud. When crowned by the hand of the 
charming, the fair Princess. His laurel crown. Rumor has 
it. This Prince had this crown sculptored by the greatest 
artist in all Persia. And it can be seen resting upon a black 
marble pedestal inlaid with the mother of pearl. Which 
stands in the first place within his palace. 

This Sovereign Prince Willard, my love for thee. He will. 

But Theron did not finish his words. The Princess stepped 
before him. Close. Closer. 

Stop! Not another word. Thy base suggestion is only of 
thy kind. 

Ah! my love. Such fury doth fly from such sweeten coral 
lips. 

Theron thou hast made thy purport clear. Now be 
gone! 

But he remained motionless. 

My love should I refuse to allow thee to return unto thy 
father. Refuse to consent to thy leaving Egyptian borders? 

Then. This is my answer. I shall never scribe one herald 
to the Shah. I shall never seek to gain his consent for this 
contract. This debauched trick. It will never, never. Listen 
well to my words. Never be thrust upon the unsuspecting 
Shah. Thou shall never succeed in thy attempt to negotiate 
with Persia in such a deal. I prythee Theron, go! Lest 
thou dost, rue thy stay. 

Since thou art in such pretty furies. I leave thee now 
my love. But upon the morrow I shall return for thy 
answer. For tonight. Think. Consider well my proposition. 
And think gravely on it. 

The door! replied she as she stood pointing to the door. 

Goodnight my beloved! And Theron left the chamber. 

The Princess fell upon her divan and sobbed. For a 
homesickness was upon her. 

And then. The door swung open and Ruby at came trip- 
ping in. Radiant in the beauty of her youth, laughing as 
she always was. Upon her arm she carried a covered reed 
basket. 

Princess Roxana I have fetched thee a pigeon for thy din- 
ner. 

Why Rubyat, dear sweet child! Thou art indeed kind 
and sweet to me. 

She arose and lighted the lanterns. Rubyat uncovered the 


A Princess of the Orient 


135 


basket and opened the reed lid. From among the spotless 
linen she took the pigeon out upon its plate. 

And she chatted all the while the Princess devoured the 
meat of the pigeon. 

Rubyat, how tender! How good! Surely thou couldst 
tempt even the dying with thy delicate pigeon. And didst 
thou indeed prepare the pigeon with thy own hands? That 
1 did Princess. I prepared it myself. I wanted to carry a 
fresh one to thee. 

What can I ever do to repay thee, my sweet child? 

I do not wish any pay, my Princess. I only wish to please 
thee. Shall I not fetch thee another tomorrow? 

Nay! Not upon the morrow but another day, Rubyat. It 
is delicious meat. And Rubyat thy laughing face cheers me 
very much. Too. I have been very ill and people who are 
shut within four walls, away from all the beauties of Na- 
ture — they do become very dull. Their heart becomes hun- 
gry. Their days like the nights hold an incubus. It makes 
them weary and they long for brightness. Indeed sweet 
child, I wish thee to come every day. Thou must come and 
sit with me. 

A shadow passed over the sunny face and Rubyat became 
restless. A shadowy morbid thought seemed to settle upon 
her. 

Rubyat what is it? Have I said anything to grieve thee? 
Thou art not ill, surely? 

My Princess I love thee so much! I love thee next to my 
father. For since my mother has gone away. Father and 
me. We just live for one another. 

Poor lonely child! And the Princess stroked her pretty 
curls. 

Ah! Nay my Princess. I am never lonely. I am happy 
all the time. But Princess, am I in truth a bother to thee? 
Do I disturb thee? 

Why Rubyat! Nay. Such a question. What ever put 
that foolish notion in thy pretty head? 

Must I really tell thee. Princess? Then. Promise not to 
tell him. 

I promise Rubyat, replied the Princess and she kissed the 
rosy cheeks of the girl. And the Princess thought the girl 
referred to her father. 

It was the Prince Governor M. Theron! 

The Prince Governor Theron? exclaimed the Princess. 

I just met him and he scolded me for my coming here 


136 


A Princess of the Orient 


every day to sit with thee. He said. I only bored thee. 
That I should never come here again. 

But Princess I shall be so lonely if I can not sit with thee 
each day. 

The Prince Governor has told thee this? 

He did, my Princess. 

Dost thou, then know him, my child? Whereupon Rubyat 
dropped upon her knees before the Princess and kissed her 
hands in her happiness. 

Ah! Know Theron? Yea. I know him for he comes 
nearly every night to visit me. 

The Princess stood upon her feet. 

He comes nearly every night to visit thee, Rubyat? 

Nearly so, my Princess. But he is so busy with his du- 
ties that he can not sit long with me. I mean a long, long 
time like I sit with thee, my Princess. 

The Princess dropped upon her divan again. She closed 
her eyes to shut out the terror of her thoughts. 

My child! Dost thy father know of the visits of Theron? 

Well. Not exactly my Princess. I promised Theron that 
I would not tell father. That is until we are wedded. 

Wedded! exclaimed the Princess. 

Ah! That is the secret. But thou wilt never tell it to 
any one? We are to be wedded soon. Theron and me. And, 
my Princess I am so happy! 

And the girl danced in glee around the chamber. 

Princess I have never told any person but thee. I do love 
Theron so! And Theron loves me. Just like. 

Yea child, just like what? Thou art quite certain Theron 
loves thee? 

Ah! I am sure of it. For he has told me many times. 
Just like the gallant Knights in the Romance, my Princess. 
And my Princess won’t it be glorious when we are wedded? 

A mist swam before the Princess. She looked long upon 
the sunny face of this young sweet girl, as she danced in her 
great joy. 

Gods! Such mocking destiny! broke from the lips of the 
Princess. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

The Smelling of the Zephyrs — 
Shemn-en-N eseem . 

It was Spring. And the Spring-time in Cairo was a season 
of spirit and joy. Nature was glowing with a freshness that 
invigorated the minds of the people and a freshness that 


A Princess of the Orient 


137 


filled the hearts with a tender spirit of harmony. The land 
about wore an inspiring look. The people in hailing the re- 
turning warmth, the colour of this young season soon forgot 
the dool of the grey winter just gone. For the winter had 
been grey for many. It had been most melancholy for more. 

Have ye seen a flying cloud? What go ye into the wilder- 
ness to see? 

Are ye going to the cry of the plover? Its plaintive wail 
doth charm me not. It songs to me are but one continuous 
wail of sorrow. Of dismal sounds. 

I abhor the plover more than any of the forest birds. I 
would have him banished from the fields. The fields are so 
beautiful this morning with their new glories. And this 
plover I gainsay comes to sing goodly news. I trowth it 
bears some evil omen. 

Hark ye I ’Tis a morbid pity! The glad songs of all the 
song birds are hushed in strict obedience to this masterful 
bird. 

Lady Vivian turned at the sound of these words. She 
faced a company of three gentlemen standing nearby. So 
near her that they could have reached out their hands, they 
could have touched her. How long had they been standing 
there? 

She had been sitting in a lonely soliloquy for some time. 
Wholly apart from the passersby. 

Was the lovely Lady Vivian a dyed stoic in the midst of 
all the glorious realms of bright Nature? Upon this pleasant 
morn of celebrations, that she could remain so unmoved? 

An individual rhapsody Lady Vivian? 

Ah! Greetings gentle sir! I prythee in answer to thy 
wandering questions. Nay! I go not out into the way of 
the desert wilderness. I go this roadway that which doth 
lie before thee and to the East. It leads into the lands, the 
beautiful lands where ravishing Nature is this day resplend- 
ent with responsive glories unto Eg5rptian greetings. For 
there in the open our gods and with Nature — the people of 
Cairo are gathering this day to keep their vows to their 
gods. To give thanks for their bountiful goodness unto 
them. 

Canterre for it was he who with his two companions had 
entered into these fields had spoken to Lady Vivian. 

Lady Vivian, I crave thy pardon. This plaintive plover 
hath caused the blunder with its weird song. 

Gentle Sirs, how carelessly thou hast spoken. For. Hark 


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ye, the plaintive plover even now is whist. The song birds 
lilting. And my dear sirs. Behold the lavender, the black 
and the white colouring of this plover, is there no beauty in 
the bird? 

This small company stood in observation of the plover. 
For there upon a cactus-hedge within a minutely short dis- 
tance from where they stood, this majestic bird stood. 

It was beautiful. So richly beautiful with its artfully 
blended colours. 

And kind sirs! Behold the Sun, how it reddens the East. 
This. The so often named, majestic house of flame! It is 
shending marvelous glows upon our land. It brightens our 
people as they come to meet this bounteous spirit of praise 
and to greet the glad morn with rejoicings. 

In truth Lady Vivian, we can see thy people in yon dis- 
tant roadway. They appear to be in great numbers. In 
faith we can hear their anthems of rejoicings even the tones 
of their cymbals. They wave their laurel branches over their 
heads. They walk two and two in distinct lines. 

What a manifestation! responded Canterre aloud. 

In truth. One can but feel a sense of keen awakening that 
glads the heart upon such an occasion, spake one of this 
company of gentlemen. 

It is an inspiration to come hither so early into the day 
to participate in this celebration, while the day is still young. 

Gentle Sirs, it is. The Smelling of the Zephyrs — the shem 
-en-Neseem! And Lady Vivian bowed her head. The 
gentlemen lifted their turbans and stood with tmcovered 
heads. When they raised their heads once more. Lady Vi- 
vian had slipped away. 

The gentlemen turned to Canterre. 

Canterre is it not a beautiful sight to witness such faith in 
these Egyptian people? 

It doth thrill one’s soul with secret delight, answered Can- 
terre quietly. 

And the lovely Lady Vivian is she not charmingly sincere 
in her worship? 

She doth bear the courtly dignity of the Egyptian, re- 
sponded Canterre. 

Then the three walked on in silence. At the first turn in 
the roadway Canterre halted and leaned against a splendid 
locust-tree. As he tended there. His companions faltered. 
They respected his soliloquy and then, they walked slowly 
on. Knowing that he would come to them later. 


A Princess of the Orient 


139 


When they had gone entirely. Canterre still reclinging 
against the locust-tree with its large branches of delicate 
swinging leaves. He raised his head and the shadows of the 
morning sun playing through the slender threaded leaves of 
the tree made him smile lightly. And he mused with 
thoughts, aloud. 

Ye gods! The heaven of light hath returned once more. 
There before me again didst appear the glorious lady of my 
heart’s choice. 

And then he become silent once more. He looked on into 
the roadway. 

I wouldst not follow wandering fires. I go but to revel 
in the beauties of this splendid day. List! the song birds 
do sing their songs with softer tones. The Sun. It doth red- 
den the East more red. I can see the steep paths winding up 
and round the hills, and they are bordered by thickets of 
flowering shrubs. The glade just beyond therein, the throng 
of people do enter. And I, Canterre follow! 

With these outspoken words he followed this roadway. 

Fair morning Canterre! 

He turned upon hearing this fresh young voice; and he 
stood face to face with Rubyat. 

Greetings Rubyat! 

O, Canterre I pry thee art thou going into the vale there? 

I am going there certainly, Rubyat, responded Canterre. 

I prythee, I shall walk with thee for I am so lonely. 

Lonely my child? Lonely in this refreshing vale? 

Yea, but not so lonely. It is the snakes in the vale, I am 
in fear of them, Canterre. 

Then come with me. We shall encounter no snakes here, 
my child. 

And hand in hand they walked up the long roadway lead- 
ing into the vale. 

The vert is of such a distinct freshness, Rubyat. Every 
shrub budding in its own peculiar colour. Many light, many 
lighter, dark and both light and dark. But all vividly alive 
with new life. 

It is wonderfully pretty this morning, and how I love the 
warm sunshine, Canterre, answered Rubyat who was always 
charmed with the different moods of Nature. 

From Nature the Egyptian must have borrowed their 
vivid flaring colours, me thinks! 

Rubyat and Canterre walked on in silence. On just ahead 


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they could see the people. They were entering there, into 
a field. The Sacred Mount must be there. 

I follow! Plow good to breathe in the vernal spirit of Na- 
ture. To bask in the dawn’s greetings. It is a privilege for 
these people of the Orient. 

0 ye gods! What a freedom following the stifling Court. 
To be free in the open, with no one to lay claim to thy rights, 
with no one to measure thy duties. 

Everywhere! Every distant point of the fields portrays 
the weird fantastic shapes of Nature. They rise in all di- 
rections. Some small, some large but all majestic! 

It is surely Nature’s sculptured work. Nature the artist 
with no teacher, neither a master but its Creator. 

Canterre halted and he dropped the hand of Rubyat. He 
placed his hand over his own eyes. Par hasard, memories be- 
fogged him, once more. 

Canterre, thou art ill? asked Rubyat looking frightened. 

Nay, Rubyat. Then with a deep bitterness he hoarsely 
answered. It was just a momentary exaltation — a conse« 
cration must be fast descending upon me. 

And dost thou not understand Canterre? We are close to 
the Sacred Mount. 

Rubyat spake timidly of this reverent place. 

Then. Thou may go nearer Rubyat. I wish to remain 
apart from the throng of people, for thou dost not fear now? 

1 thank thee, kind sir. I will not fear now. 

And Rubyat went off with a bound and disappeared among 
the moving people. 

What a tradition! To lay hold upon these people. I 
marvel at them. There is nothing that can create a knowl- 
edge to my hungry mind. ’Tis not a balm for my recluse 
soul. These prophets of Egypt may divine by means of their 
oracles. By means of their glass. Of their Sands. Be what 
it may. They are possessed of a recondite influence that 
which workth hard and strong upon the minds of these 
people. It is well done if they hold and versify their work- 
ing power over these people to dissuade the inquiring mind 
or dissipate any unrest arising from an unbelief. Methinks. 
I. Canterre being not of the Egyptians must not bring dis- 
sension to fray the divination of these famed prophets. 

I do beg mercy for my sincere hope that sweet content ar- 
rest all anxieties of the Lady Vivian. May these, her gods 
lead her not too blindly. 

He reclined himself upon a fallen log. 


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141 


Life I What is life? The philosopher, the scientist, the 
dreamer. All. Speak in vague, misty terms. So vague that 
we can not comprehend. 

Me thinks if all these people do truly catch the rubiac 
glow of yon Eastern Sun. Life for them is rosy. Mats if a 
wirey net of sullen doubt binds them. Veils their eyes to 
hope — then life to them unfolds in grey lines. More grey 
than the mist that arises from the Siene. Arising solidly 
higher, higher above the Siene of the French. 

Canterre, I greet thee. I came so late this morning. I 
nearly lost my path too. Thou art late like myself. 

Fairest greetings. Lady Catherine, responded Canterre as 
he turned and faced her. 

But thou art here alone Canterre. Why? 

I have not been alone. Rubyat just left me. She went 
into the masses yonder. She wished to go near the Sacred 
Mount. 

Rubyat? asked she in surprise. 

Whereupon Canterre’s face slightly flushed. 

Yea, the child overtook me as I walked upon the roadway. 
She was in a dreaded fear and fright that she might en- 
counter a snake, laughed Canterre frankly. 

The child! responded Lady Catherine. 

And Canterre. Just now as I approached this •spot. I 
could not help hearing thy sentiments. I overheard a mix- 
ture. As I believed to be of philosophy, of love, of Nature 
and also, some phrases of beautiful sentiments. What in 
good faith were they? 

Upon my faith, I do not quite recall, Lady Catherine. I 
was but philosophizing with my own thoughts. 

There is none better for an appreciative audience, Can- 
terre, laughed she. 

I feel a loneliness here Lady Catherine. So saying he 
pressed his hand upon his heart. 

But Canterre. From that fountain of love always spring 
the purest and sweetest sentiments. And. I trowth I heard 
bitter words. I heard this I am sure. 

What? asked Canterre with quicke attention. 

And she continued in repeating these words she overheard 
from him. 

The machine of the world is the work of an intelligent 
and powerful being. Thou who art intelligent ought to ad- 
mire Him. Thou who are laden with His gifts ought to 
adore Him. 


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A Princess of the Orient 


Correctly recited Lady Catherine. That is the verse motto 
from Voltaire. 

And it remains all strange to me, responded she. 

Ah! Lady Catherine. It is strangely versed though it is 
divinely true. We are many of us nobly blest. Many heavy 
laden with the gifts of the Creator. 

In truth, Canterre we are created by the gods, and these 
gods have blest us greatly. 

The gods? Sharply asked Canterre. 

Certainly! Who but the cycle of gods can ever bless hu- 
man life? . 

And Canterre threw up his hand in a judgement. He 
turned his head away and to one side. 

Cela Suffit! Elle se tremble pour ses Dieux: mats mot: 
Je n’ai pas peur parcque je n^ai pas tels Dieux! 

Now these french phrases fell upon her and she grasped 
them with a perplexed feeling but she answered him not. 

My dear Lady Catherine, I pry thee thy fair pardon! I 
meant plainly. I do not fear a cycle of gods as thy people 
do. 

Canterre, can it be possible that thou canst remain ir- 
reverent to the gods? I petition for thee Canterre. And 
may the wrath of the angry gods be spared thee. For this 
denial and such irreverence. 

Never fear. Lady Catherine. I thank thee for thy goodly 
wishes. Give me an audience and I shall relate to thee of 
my faith in my Creator. 

Then Lady Catherine remained silent but with a look of 
interest in her face. And she turned her eyes upon him with 
a peculiar and questioning pity as he recited these words. 
And with a most sublime sentiment. 

The Lord is my shepherd ; I shall not want. 

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth 
me beside the still waters. 

He restoreth my soul : he leadeth me in the paths of right- 
eousness for his name’s sake. 

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of 
death, I will fear no evil : for thou art with me ; they rod and 
thy staff they comfort me. 

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine 
enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth 
over. 

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of 
my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. 


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143 


CHAPTER XXII. 

The Return to the Temple. 

The day of the Smelling of The Zephyrs was nearly fin- 
ished. The people were returning from the palm groves of 
the Nile. The ceremonies of the religious worship had been 
solemnly carried out by all the people. And the people re- 
turned into the Sacred Temple. This would complete the 
religious ceremonies in commemoration of the day. 

An antique chariot blazing with brightest gold and drawn 
by white horses drove down the roadway leading a proces- 
sion. In it rode the King and Lady Vivian with several es- 
corts. One escort wearing a suit of black velvet embroidered 
with many gems. The other wearing the same. The King 
was majestic in his crimson velvet robe which was banded 
with ermine fur. 

The people followed the gold chariot of the King in close 
lines. In the most ceremonious fashion down the public 
highway. 

The wearing of the fine web of the Nile with the wearing 
of the coarse brown felt. The yellow morocco boots almost 
concealed by the outer thick shoes and the red homely shoes. 
All came in mingled lines not altogether in imiform. Upon 
this hour of the approach of this procession of worshippers. 
And as the King came near the Temple. The heavy doors of 
the temple which were embossed in thick raised figures of 
the most antique design and holding lines of heavy brass, 
with brass handles. These doors were thrown open. From 
the bowled fountains of the burning incense, the sweet scent- 
ed vapor pleasantly met the King as he entered into the 
temple. 

Their King. With Lady Vivian were the first of these 
worshippers to enter. And they stood before an altar. An 
altar of rare workmanship. Of whiten marble. 

Then the King having entered. The people were per- 
mitted to follow in close line. 

From the tuneful but the loud music of the cymbals with- 
out this vast temple. The harp with its tension and pitch so 
low. Greeted the people soothingly. 

The Egyptian harp played horizontally was bourne upon 
the shoulders of an Egyptian youth. This youth was re- 
nowned as a polished performer upon this elegant harp. And 
this was a musician of taste and fertile fancy. His tones 
were as sublime. They inspired the worshippers. 

And this was the only music heard within tiis temple. Up- 


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A Princess of the Orient 


on this unlike other occasions, the harp-player in the Mehrab 
or the niche commonly used for prayer in this temple. And 
this music was the only music heard within the temple. 

In a most graceful manner this temple was festooned with 
bands of the laurel. 

Upon the Mimbar or the pulpit, there was not a prophet 
but a Sainted Sooth-Sayer. This Sooth-Sayer ordained the 
guests with a greeting of the delicate lotus bud. This bud 
they dipped into the ointment, which was contained in the 
center fountain. 

After receiving this greeting. The guests departed from 
the temple in solemn respect and gratification. 

This alone was the conclusion of the most simple cere- 
mony of the Smelling of the Zephyrs. And the doors of the 
temple were closed. 

The tones of the golden harp were silent. The cymbals 
now triumphantly struck their tones. 

From epic calmness of the temple swelling into a torrent 
of gladdened hearts. The people dashed vehemently onward 
to their homes. 

It is well known that the all-love-eloquent. The devotion 
of the Egyptian to his gods, become one ideal in his life. 
And religion plays a very great part in the life of the ori- 
ental people. 

This occasion of the Smelling of The Zephyrs was annual 
in Cairo. 

Upon one corner of a public roadway. Sat a dervish upon 
a huge stone. He continually muttered as his bent body 
swayed to and fro in motion. 

And Life is but 

A shadow on the wall — a falling leaf 

Toy’d with by autumn winds — a flower — a star 

Among the infinite infinitesimal I 

We are but breath whispering against the wind, — 

Sand in the desert! — dew upon the sea!” 

This old dervish sat watching the passing people. Some 
men perched upon the backs of asses. Some upon the 
camels. While others were riding in carriages and a few in 
carts. All passed this corner. The King. The whole of 
Cairo. Even to a number of ragged street boys who taunted 
the old dervish as he sat there. Then he arose walking away. 

And the old dervish was last seen far down the roadway 
with slow steps and bent form. Leaning upon his stick. 


A Princess of the Orient 


145 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

One Contrite Heart. 

^‘Mortals, that would j allow me, 

Love Virtue she alone is free. 

She can teach ye how to climb 
Higher than the sphery chime; 

Or, if Virtue feeble were. 

Heaven itself would stoop to her.” 

Comus — Milton 

The Desideratum I 

The following day. That is to say the next day after the 
Prince Governor M. Theron had communicated his contem- 
plated scheme to the Princess Roxana. The Princess sat in 
the court garden leisurely watching the idle passersby. Chil- 
dren. Frolicksome youths. Men and women. 

One woman there was who passed and repassed the garden 
gate. This woman was carrying a heavy water- jar. The 
Egyptian bellasse. 

The pallid drawn face of the woman appealed to the kind 
sympathy of the Princess. This. A common sight it was 
too, in the city. Yet one to which the Princess could never 
compromise herself. The jars were vastly too large. Too 
weighty for a woman’s shoulders. 

This burdened woman came. She passed. She disap 
peared into the mingled masses of the roadway leading past 
and making a turn just beyond this garden gate. 

Every person passing seemed to hurry with lively, brisk 
steps. 

And this woman walked with a quicke and short step. 
There was something in this pathetic picture. Something 
that which moved the Princess to tender sentiments. And a 
tear glistened in her eye. 

How many times had the Princess seen this woman. And 
others too. Day after day plodding along in their toils. For 
the peasant women of Cairo as in all oriental countries 
worked long and hard. However. Upon this particalur 
evening the Princess saw it all in a vastly different light. 
This picture full of shadows! 

Slowly. Nearly sadly the Princess turned and with an in- 
ert step, with a burdened heart throbbing in pain. She went 
into her own chamber. Even there. She felt a chilly lone- 
liness. With a secret clinging sense of guilt she went to an 
inlaid pearl cabinet. Made of ebony-wood. She withdrew 
from its shelf a Persian Rosary. 


146 


A Princess of the Orient 


This Rosary. It was but a string of semi-transparent straw 
coloured. Or amber coloured beads. Fondly she clasped 
this Rosary. And numerated the beads of yellow. Then. 
She reclined herself upon her couch and fell to sobbing. She 
buried her face in her small hands. Enfin, she resolutely 
lifted her tear-stained face. Her eyes wandered over and 
beyond the outside view of the gardens. 

How different from one hour past! 

She looked again. The streets below looked splendid in 
their busy aspect. The gardens appeared gorgeously beauti- 
ful with the morning’s bright Sun shining upon them, liken 
kisses of warm love. 

There was then. A phantasm! Nay, not a fancy. It 
was a feeling of unhappy regret. And a passionate regret 
that seemed to walk just beside her in the closest companion- 
ship. It lingered within the twilight tinge of her sorrow. 

And that dark sorrow was. The rash deed she had com- 
mitted in leaving her home. 

Now, she was banishing it from out of her life forever. 
She sunk her fingers into the velvet drapery as if to gather 
strenght from its soft touch. 

She was weary of the extravagance of her careless life. 
She longed for freedom of these stained memories. 

Alack! Even yestern-day it was. I sank in deep sorrow, 
my heart and mind held in grey gloom. But. To-day. I 
arise from the tribunal of conscience. My rank, my fortune 
as a daughter to the Mighty Persian Shah of the Royal 
House of Persia. It places me from this day hence. Above. 
The common bribe of careless luxury. 

O, winds of the heavens. Winds of the North, of the South, 
of the East and of the West. Winds of the Orient. Bear 
these memories hence, away. Away, into space. Infinite 
space surrounded not even by the skies. Neither the earth. 

My mind is troubled with them. Like ghosts of yestern- 
day they cling to the open portals of the morrow. Away 
with them! 

And should I return into Persia again. The same luxu- 
ries of an empty life waits me. There always, always ready 
to settle down upon me with a griping and an extortionate 
tread. This is undeniable. In Persia. I would be again 
what I once was. The petted child of the house of courtly 
riches. In Cairo. The life of indulgence. So indulgent so 
false! 


A Princess of the Orient 


147 


Upon my faith the thought of it all makes me ill. It re- 
vokes a disgust. 

True, true! The ancient proverb. That false glare at- 
tracts but a little while, then it offends the eye! 

And true. More true the invisible involution of love, and 
of sorrow reach high in the human heart. Little opportuni- 
ty has a person to not taste of this knowledge. Yea! The 
opportunity is as narrow as Al-Sirafs Arch. The bridge of 
breathe quoted to be narrower than the thread of a famished 
spider. 

The Princess now moved as if to impeach her own mind. 
Then tossing her head. She waved her hand with an Indif- 
ference and as if impassioned by a thrill of pleasure to ban- 
ish her thoughts she mused in loud phrases. 

Ah! Youth, sweet fickle youth, wildly dost thou whirl 
in mad joy. 

And. Reason, thou guardian of impulsive youth, strictly 
dost thou serve thy powers. But after all. The fuller life 
that which follows free youth. Is the time wherein mind 
has been enriched with the real value of life. The hour of 
common sense. 

Sweetest joys come after we drink of the Cup of Sorrow. 
There is the unanswerable evidence in our beautiful 
world that when the light of years of life depart. We live 
by faith and by the strenght of the hope of still greater 
things. 

And upon this moment the Princess walked to the opening 
of her chamber. 

She stood in a rapturous and purple misty haze. For her 
mind was ravished with high and noble thoughts. 

She lifted her eyes upward. She clasped her Rosary and 
then she repeated in slow distinct voice. 

I do now. Upon this hour pledge myself to forever banish 
my careless, empty life and I go henceforth to seek. To en- 
ter into a fuller life. To serve humanity. In the fullest 
measure in all things! 

She then with a happy step walked out of her own cham- 
ber and she entered into the garden. Wherein she had re- 
clined but a few moments past. She reclined in the shadow 
of the palms. And she was refreshed. She fell to listening 
to the tales of the wandering dervishes as they passed be- 
yond the garden wall. She listened to the soft verses which 
floated through the gardens, coming from the gondolas upon 
the bay, nearby. And her thoughts drifted into dreahis. 


148 


A Princess of the Orient 


High. Higher above all she pictured the Convent of the 
Christians. The low vesper bells rang softly. And did she 
not hear them? For she murmured in her dream. O, vesper 
bells! I come to answer thy best! 

And the fair dreamer dreamed on. Heaven itself stooped 
to her! 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

The Fisheries of Feiyoom. 

Blightly young girls bearing a smile as the morning light. 
Youth wheedling them into the groves of Feiyoom. Gallant- 
ly they walked side by side. The spirit of joy bursting upon 
every heart. 

Some of Cairo’s pleasure loving people upon this Spring- 
time day were indulging in pigeon fancying. Some were 
just returning from a solemn hunt of killing the crocodile on 
the Nile. Yet a goodly number there were. Who were 
gathered within the picturesque groves of Feiyoom. 

It was the seasonal change. Springtime. The vast fish- 
eries of Feiyoom were most interesting. The natural beauty 
of the fields hedged by the Indian fig added much to the 
setting of these fisheries. 

The song birds with their dulcet songs. The chit-chat of 
the field birds and the zick zack cry of the black headed 
plover. All these songs harmonized in a pretty welcome into 
Nature’s fresh fields. 

Mounting round the vast fisheries, shrubbery and upright 
growing plants were fresh and. The papyrus was seen in its 
graceful natural growth. Just beyond in a fertile hollow of 
the oasis, the sweet scented perfume of the rose fields was 
carried by the light winds. Which wafted the perfume of 
these rose fields like a vapor. Nature invited every one to 
come out. To frolic upon her green carpets of velvet. 

Yet. Princess Roxana remained within her chapel. She 
having refused to accept the proposed plan of Theron — that 
of returning or of interviewing the Shah in behalf of Theron’s 
commercial plan. Again upon the previous night, she this 
grand day sat within closed doors and in an unapproach- 
able mood. She wanted but to be left alone. And she was. 

Upon this bright day. Lady Vivian with Lady Catherine 
was out in the midst of the midst of the gay people. They 
enjoyed the frolics of the open field sports. 

Lady Vivian was very chic in a linen cloak, long, loose and 
belted. Upon her head she wore a severe strait linen hat, 
banded with black leather. Her boots of dull black were 


A Princess of the Orient 


149 


topped with vivid red. Her gloves of brightest green. She 
carried her ivory walking stick gracefully. 

Lady Catherine was another picture of ultra-smartness. 
She wore a linen cloak, long and belted, of the deepest 
colour, blue. And with a round cape of scarlet plaid. Her 
turban, small and neat. Was of white linen trimmed with 
bands of brightest Egyptian embroidery. Her boots of blue 
linen w'ere trim. Her gloves of white were spotless and as 
gracefully. As Lady Vivian. Did she carry her ebony walk- 
ing stick. 

Lady Vivian walked away from the center of the sports. 
And Lady Catherine followed her. 

Catherine I know thou art planning to ramble out into the 
fields, to sketch. 

In truth my dear, I had planned to sketch. The artist’s 
desire is strong upon me. For there never was a more per- 
fect day. Never a more bewitching setting than these rose 
fields in the distance. And so seldom do I ever come so far 
out into the country as the Fisheries. 

But Catherine. I forgot my sweet companion. Is there 
no one going with thee? 

Lady Catherine smiled and answered her. 

Mordane. Thou knowst that Mordane always sketches 
with me. 

Then I shall not accompany thee, my dear. 

Indeed, thou will accompany Mordane and myself. Come! 

And the two ladies walked towards the fields. Directly, 
they were joined by Mordane. And the three walked on. 

Ah! Gloriously beautiful, exclaimed Lady Catherine. 
Beauty doth silently reign queen in these fields of Feiyoom. 
Of all the great beauties of Eg5q)tland. 

Herein dost lie the most beautiful. 

The fields are fresh with a roseate beauty responded Lady 
Vivian. 

And could they be more beautiful, coming from illustrious 
Nature? asked Mordane. 

Impossible, responded both ladies. 

A few steps farther brought them into one ideal spot. 

Here! exclaimed Lady Catherine. I have found my place. 
And she seated herself upon an elevated ridge at one edge 
of the rose field. 

Mordane please fetch thou, my frame. Is this not a per- 
fect spot, Mordane? 

It is picturesque, answered he. 


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A Princess of the Orient 


And then. The two artists at once began to sketch. 

Catherine, I prythee. I shall roam round through these 
heaps of roses. Behold! How brilliant the whole field looks 
with the bright sun light upon it. I shall return later. Au 
Revoir! And waving her hand Lady Vivian was gone. 

The artists sketched on. 

Mordane this scene can scarcely be reproduced, remarked 
Lady Catherine. Without raising her eyes from her sketch. 

But by the hand of Lady Catherine replied Mordane. 
With a low voice. A voice filled with love sentiment. 

I thank thee Mordane. But it is bad form for one artist 
to flatter his scholar. 

I trowth thou wouldst hear, only the truth from me? 

I always trust I shall from thee, Mordane. 

And the artists sketched on in silence. 

Mordane seeth thou the one perfect tawny double rose 
nearest to thy side? Is that one not wonderfully pretty? 

Now Mordane arose and stood by the side of Lady 
Catherine. His eyes searched in the pointed direction and he 
sooned sighted it. 

That one! Yea I can easily get that one for thee, Cather- 
ine. 

Nay! I do not wish it to be plucked, Mordane. I no- 
ticed it immediately as we sat here. I love it in its rich yel- 
low colouring. 

Before she could stop him. Mordane reached forth his 
hand and plucked the rose. He fetched it to her. 

I thank thee, Mordane. And holding the rose close, in 
both hands, she buried her nose deep into its pretty pedals, 
devouring its fragrance as well as its soft and elegant beauty. 

When she lifted her head, Mordane was still standing close 
before her. So close that she started. The ardent pent up 
love which she knew he was concealing from her through all 
the long days of their modeling, leaped into his eyes, now. 

Suddenly he bent over her and clasped his arms around 
her. He kissed her with hot burning kisses. 

At this moment. Lady Vivian was returning and coming 
near. She faltered. 

Lady Catherine at the sight of Lady Vivian slyly pushed 
awav from Mordane’s embrace. 

Nay, Catherine dear, and Mordane. My darlings! I 
prythee, I am going away. And with a merry laugh she was 
gone again. 

Lady Catherine blushed scarlet to the tip of her pretty 


A Princess of the Orient 


151 


ears. But the happy lovers did not turn to look after Lady 
Vivian. 

And Lady Vivian out of sight of them seated herself upon 
a clump of roses in a newly discovered nook. She drew 
from her leathern bag a volume of papyrus. And she began 
to scribe a reverie in pretty phrases and it was of a poetical 
meter. 

Suddenly. She heard not a sound, but she felt a hot 
breathe upon her left cheek. 

She dropped her papyrus and turned slowly. She turned 
into the face of a black slave. 

His vicious eyes intent upon her. Then. Rudely he tore 
the papyrus from her lap. 

And he ran faster. Faster. Out of her sight. 

She sat in her fright at first, then after a few moments 
she arose. Gathering up her papyrus and her crayon she 
ran quickly to Mordane. 

Mordane! Catherine! A slave, I knew him not. He 
came stealing upon me. He snatched my papyrus. Then he 
ran on out of that side of the field. 

A black slave Vivian? They both cried in one excited 
breathe. And looking in the direction to which she stood 
pointing. - 

Yea. A black slave. And I know him not. 

Strange! What were thee scribing Vivian? 

But a fragment of verse, I call it, my dears. 

Ye gods! The Muses then the black devil ! What an im- 
moral calamity! 

As Mordane uttered these words. The three laughed in 
the spirit of mischievous sport. 

And continued Mordane. The inspiration gone. Banished 
into oblivion by the spirit of the dark shades. 

Ah! laughed Lady Vivian. But thou art too ready with 
thy merry wit. Nay! the inspiration has not gone down 
into oblivion. For behold! I have a facsimile. 

Lady Vivian drew a papyrus from her bag for she had 
scribed upon the carbon sheet. 

The Inspiration of the Muses preserved! exclaimed Mor- 
dane. 

Together the ladies reclined themselves upon a grassy 
mound. And Mordane standing directly in front of them 
read aloud. 

And this was the verse, metered upon the staff of sweet 
love. 


152 


A Princess of the Orient 


THE DANCE OF THE MUSES. 

I. 

Empurp^d are the heavens; the effluence of gentle zephrs 
Waft perfume of sentiment. Sylvan lyrists touch to lure 
Strike luscious fragments, shend a balm for bruis’d hearts 
Steep’d in the nectar of Love’s Court, — Cupid’s gild’ d art ^ 
Darts in sighs piercing the windinstruments of Love’ s breathe. 

II. 

The darling Nymphs assemble in a labrinth of silent winds, 
Singing in gold lattic’d spheres, messages luxurious. 
Fascinations maze! Sunk in pleasant dreams upon the 
jewel’ d shrine 

Odes to the Love Bard the Sylvans chant. Melodies har- 
monious — 

Fantastic chimes float everywhere, bourne of Love’s Carols. 

III. 

The Muses dance in the Rose-bud Court of Love’s dream 
garden. 

The laureate jambee of the Graces, in dainty gavot laden. 
With delights, bend to enchant. The sweet breathe of bliss 
Phantoms dreams and garlands the soul of dreamers — list! 
Truant lovers. On yon flowery lay Apollo play’s Love’s 
golden chords. 

IV. 

Bacchus’s ruby cup is garnish’d with pearly Kisses — Love’s 
Bride 

Is blown from the gods’ breathe flush’d with beauty and 
with pride. 

Rosebud garlands gather the Sylphs in bridal chorus. A per- 
fect Day! 

Youth lends its sweetness. Love symboliz’th its try sting 
place. 

The Festive Court of Love is drunk with the Dance of The 
Muses! 

Now. The black slave after stealing the papyrus from 
Lady Vivian. Ran nimbly. 

Just within a certain nook near the Fisheries he met 
Theron who stood there, awaiting the return of the slave. 

The slave placed the papyrus into the hands of Theron. 
With a bow he stood to one side of his master. 

Theron read the sentimental verse much to his distain. As 
well as to his astonishment. Then an unsuspecting light 
gleamed in his eye. 

What a blunder! And this — this silly love verse! 


A Princess of the Orient 


153 


Ye gods but I will keep it. Perchance it may serve me, 
well. 

He folded it neatly and placed it securely into his pocket. 

Then turning he saw the black slave still standing by his 
side in his humble attitude. Then a merry laugh broke from 
Theron and in humor of fun, he said. 

Anton, well done! Well done! 

CHAPTER XXV. 

The Bath. 

Princess Roxana! ’Tis she Vivian. Turn thy eyes to- 
wards the farthest opening. She comes this way. 

So it is the Princess, Catherine. How pallid. She walks 
not all too certain. Let us hail her as she passes this way. 

Directly through the open colonnade of the bath, the 
Princess glided as it were. She came and she passed them 
without a word. 

Lady Vivian approached her and the Princess turned to 
greet her. 

Greetings Princess Roxana! I am delighted to be with 
thee again. Thou art most welcome and I am happy that 
thou art so nearly recovered once more.- 

Greetings my friends. I thank thee I am in excellent 
spirits. And I do feel quite myself once again. 

It doth seem that goodly fortune has guarded thee Prin- 
cess, remarked Lady Vivian. 

I grant it so. Goodly fortune in the kindness of such a 
friend and guardian angel, as the kind Lady Vivian. And. 
Too in the worth of Canterre’s Sacred Thorn. 

The Princess spake with gentle culture and with a tinge 
of sorrow. Whereupon Lady Vivian felt a kindness for her. 

Come Princess. Recline thyself upon this bench. Per- 
chance. Our Society may cheer thee. 

And I am certain thy society will glad us. For mind thee 
Princess. Lady Catherine like thyself is most indolent. 

Perhaps, it is but the habitual love of idleness, which has 
come upon thee, replied the Princess. 

Indeed! Quickly responded Lady Catherine. I call it 
not an indolence. Neither a habitual love of idleness. The 
bath is a retreat of sweetest indulgence. 

And. More Lady Catherine. It is a retreat for indul- 
gent reveries. Of mad fancies. And madder imaginations, 
sighed the Princess as she threw herself upon the bench. 

So spake the dreamers! And doth not such a spell of fas- 
cination ne’er clutch thy brain? Asked Lady Vivian. 


154 


A Princess of the Orient 


Good friends, alack! Too frequently I fall into this 
charming chasm of life and of ultra bliss. Who is there 
among us who doth not? And bound by vagaries we all, 
alike sink into an all too inclined dreapier. 

I pry thee, answered Lady Vivian. Why dost thou say too 
frequently? Me thinks the sweeter dreams we snatch from 
life the more sublime is our life. 

Sometimes, began Lady Catherine they become ferocious. 
They measure a dangerous rival to our highest ambition. 
They faint our choicest ideals. And they coerce us to fall 
a victim of idle dreams. All to fired with the unreal. 

Not so well spoken Catherine. I can not agree with thee 
in such an opinion. Thy words art most foolish. I am of 
the same opinion as the Princess. I have the same inclina- 
tions. Not occasionally but many times. From every- 
where and from every one. So fired with the enthusiasm of 
wafting ideals, I dream. Such extravagant dreams and idyls, 
so sweetly in the realms of pleasure. Lavished with the 
charm of. Shall I don it, love? 

And why not Vivian? It is but the gift of love, answered 
Lady Catherine with a light laughter. 

So it may be. The dreaming hours following the troubled 
times in our life. They belong to each alone. We shape 
them jusqu^a they become companions to our Soul. In 
waking hours. In the twilight of loneliness. And Lady Vivian 
finished these words with a deep sigh. 

Ah! What price the gods must ask of me for my dreams! 
spake the Princess with a restlessness. 

In truth! Interrupted Lady Catherine who was dull. 
Dear companion thou art fevourishly wrapt in lavishness 
this morning. Come forsake such sentiments. 

Who can appreciate thy dreaming fancies upon this bright 
cheery morn. As for me my mind doth seem not so swathed 
in fantastic films. Why can we not drink in the cheerful 
spirit of this fresh day. The Bath is refreshing. Behold, 
the Sun doth even steal into the windows of art glasses in 
a merry way. 

Then Lady Catherine faltered as she turned and saw the 
compassion in the eyes of the Princess. 

Princess thou art in a lonely meditation for thy home and 
for thy own people, I trowth. The most natural of all. 

I dare not say I am weary of thy people, dear Lady Cath- 
erine. Yet a true country-woman never forgets her own 
people. I do not find Egypt colourless. Neither dull. Again 


A Princess of the Orient 


155 


I do not find the gracious charm that which seems to intoxi- 
cate my soul, in my own people. And this too is the most 
natural of all. 

Then Princess, Egypt doth find favour with thee? 

Truly. There is a beauty in Egypt. A realistic charm in 
thy country. Likewise. In thy people. For they are very 
attractive with their culture. 

The Princess then sunk into a melancholy 1 She was si- 
lent and her large dark eyes were languid. She reclined her 
head upon the high back of the marble bench. 

Wrapped in a yellow silken robe, she was a picture in 
elegant repose. 

And upon this moment. To the amazement of the ladies. 
Theron came quite unexpectedly. And he was visibly con- 
fused to find the Princess with these ladies. 

Fair morning ladies! And the deep tones of his voice 
aroused the Princess most abruptly. She startled and opened 
her eyes in a stony stare, sitting upright. A look of disdain 
then settled upon her face. Then as if with an after thought 
she greeted Theron with a courteous smile. 

Greetings, Theron. 

Theron kissed her extended hand. And the ladies like a 
flash noted this confusion. Then a silence like a misty veil 
fastened with crafty fingers, descended upon them. All. 

Theron spake Lady Catherine, hast thou been within the 
colonnade? 

I did just return from there in coming here, replied 
Theron. 

Gallant Knight! To seek the beauty Court. 

I quite accept thy opinion Catherine smiled Theron. We 
all know that unity and variety are the true conditions of 
beauty, in the elaborate Bath. Our passions are untamed by 
any lesser degree than indulgence in the pleasure of these 
fair and most notorious beauty courts. 

Hist! Theron, cried Lady Catherine laughing mischievous- 
ly. Have a care, Theron. For thou art dangerously near 
the door of the flattery temple in thy imagination. 

Yea! Theron answered Lady Vivian. Just as thou didst 
join us. We were but discussing the lurking danger in cul- 
tivating our imaginations. Our imaginative faculties. Unto 
a degree of idle dreams. 

Charmed exclaimed Theron that I am made one of such a 
party. I listen. I risk mine own ear. I admit my curiosity. 


156 


A Princess of the Orient 


Nay, the fair ladies may they not continue their discussion. 
Upon me faith, not a cipher shall I venture. 

Lady Vivian at this point of the conversation forsook her 
always polite culture. And with a mocking laugh she an- 
swered him quickly. 

0 most perfect! Most gentle knight of Cairo! Thou hast 
not been in, neither near the colonnade. For there. The 
philosophers do gather to-day to study their science. 

And Theron tossed back his head laughing rudely at her 
attempt at satire. 

Vivian thou dost well know Theron would not remain 
within the philosopher’s colonnade. Whilst the fair gods 
have called their darlings here, to bask in the beauty of 
love’s pleasure court! So nearly visible to the colonnade. 

Then lowering his voice to almost a whisper he leaned 
close over the shoulder of Lady Vivian. 

1 am most sensible that with a heart burning with treas- 
ured love for thee, my sweet Vivian. It is not an injury to 
dare even to scoff, to seek one’s own heart’s desire. 

She flushed but with a disdain. Whereupon the Princess 
who had been a witness to this, turned her eyes away from 
them. And a bell sounded then in clear chimes. As it died 
in its own echoes, slaves entered into this court of the Bath. 
The slaves served the party with wine. After having served 
this little group, the slaves passed on into the far colonnade. 
They then went to serve the philosophers, the literary men 
who sat reading aloud in pleasant voices, their choice pro- 
ductions. 

The Princess arose to leave this party. Her silk scarf 
fell to the floor and Theron, quickly picked up the purple 
scarf. He wrapt it carefully around the pretty shoulders of 
the Princess. And in doing so he whispered distinctly into 
her ear. 

It will be wise that thou consider once more my plan. I 
shall wait another week for thy decision. Have a care my 
dear. Lest thou rue thy words! 

So speaking he turned again to the other ladies who had 
turned squarely away from them and were standing in a 
careless attitude of indifference. While the Princess left 
them with only a bow. She went by chance into the petit 
theatre. Which was snugly hidden away in one of the im- 
mense courts of the Bath. It was the upper story. 

A charming lady is the Princess spake Lady Vivian when 
Theron returned to them. 


A Princess of the Orient 


157 


Indeed a fair companion, responded Lady Catherine. 

And more. A most admirable lady with the smile of the 
gods, answered Theron. 

Me thinks, Theron. The Princess doth feel inclined to- 
wards thee. Thou art in goodly fortune. For mark thee. 
The love of such a charming creature is not often found. 

My fair Vivian, thou art surely slow to detect the real 
sentiments of the Princess. 

She doth rather seem bent in anger with me. I know not 
why. But love speaks forth. Methinks she goes now to 
seek solace with a more gallant gentleman of the court. A 
lover. For love doth speak in strange gestures, in many ways. 

A hasty glance from Lady Vivian’s eyes fell upon Theron’s 
smiling face. She answered him not. 

Then he continued in all boldness. The charming Princess 
doth go into the Stadium. For at this hour the courtiers are 
there in their games. Peut-etre she may go there to find her 
companion and one of her own heart’s choice. 

Peut-etre! There are many gallant youths gathered with- 
in the Stadium, to-day. 

Vivian, Catherine has forsaken us. She too. Has slipped 
away. Doth Mordane partake of the games? This morning 
in the Stadium 

I know naught of Mordane. I trowth Catherln 3 and Mor- 
dane are their own keepers. And a worthy pair they are! 

Music coming near, so near, that Lady Vivian could not 
continue. She listened then turning her head she beheld a 
youth singing to the tones of his stringed instrument. The 
oddly shaped instrument v^as swinging from his shoulders. 

She locked again and Canterre was approacliing her. He 
came but he passed her wirb but a foimal bow. 

She was quite confused with injured pride. While Theron 
was amused. 

Behold, Vivian. He turns directly towards the theatre. 
He surely goes to join the Princess. 

As Theron spoke he bent over Lady Vivian with a con- 
tented smile, and she stood rigid. Her dainty fout she moved 
restlessly. When, suddenly she sped away leaving him not 
alone amazed by such a quicke turn. But. Thrilled with 
a mad jealousy. Ho stocd watching her retreatir^g firm. 

Nay! She took the opposite court from the one Can- 
terre had taken. Her steps were rapid. In and out of the 
rows of laurel trees, until she came to the Syenite. 


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A Princess of the Orient 


Not even the green encrusted marble of Numidia attracted 
her in her frenzy. 

She passed on by the basins which were filled and* held in 
the mouths of silver lions. With a perpetual stream of 
water flowing from them. 

Not even the pitch of luxury attracted her mind. She 
was choked with a bitterness and she clutched at the ivory 
handled stick of her immense peacock feathered fan. She 
nervously waved this fan in rapid motion. Then she came 
upon a smooth marble white column. She buried her face 
into her white hands. And she softly spake one name. 

Twas Canterre! 

Standing in this solitary place she was quite lost to her 
surroundings. When. A pair of loving arms were gently 
placed around her. And pressed upon her neck. 

She suddenly lifted her face. It was Lady Catherine. 

Lady Catherine burst into a sob. Vivian! and then she 
laid her head upon the shoulder of Lady Vivian and wept 
many moments. 

Whereupon Lady Vivian lifted her tear stained face and 
looked intently into her eyes. 

Catherine my sweet companion. What is it dear? 

What has happened? 

Mordane, sobbed she. 

What of Mordane my dear, is he ill? 

Mordane has been commissioned into Alexandria, sobbed 
Lady Catherine. 

Mordane commissioned into Alexandria? asked Lady Vi- 
vian in surprise. 

At once. The freize in the temple has in parts become dis- 
figured. And he has been commissioned there at once. 

But the freize in the temple. It has been but completed, 
Catherine. 

Alas! But it has been ruined. There was a fire in the 
temple and a part of the freize was destroyed. 

A pity! That such a work of art should suffer destruction. 
And my dear, Mordane will remain away only a few weeks. 
The time will soon pass and then he shall return. Upon my 
faith dear. I had feared a dreadful calamity had befallen 
the whole city. 

He will return as soon as he will have completed this 
freize, Vivian. 

And when does he leave? 

Tomorrow. Early in the day. 


A Princess of the Orient 


159 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

The Hidden Hand. 

The early morning was veiled with a dense fog. The traf- 
fic in Cairo scarcely moved until a late hour. However, this 
was not an unusual event in Cairo. 

In the mist rising like a partition in the city the proces- 
sion of daily traffic at last slowly moved on, in careful tread. 
Camels with their most fascinating glides passed bearing 
upon their backs, riders of the Egyptians. Carts drawn by 
spotted donkeys slowly moved. Carts drawn by the natives 
were also seen in numbers. Men riding upon the donkeys 
were fighting their way through the mist. 

Upon one camel in a Sedan chair. Sat Mordane who was 
leaving for Alexandria. 

And as he was slowly carried out of the center of the city, 
beyond the misty Nile, he looked for the last time. He 
waved his turban to Lady Catherine. 

Lady Catherine had gone to the bridge leading across the 
Nile, upon this morning to bade Mordane a last farewell. 
This would be the last unobstructed view she could have of 
Mordane, in this line of moving traffic. She waved her walk- 
ing stick to him many times. Then. When he had entirely 
disappeared, she turned and carefully sought her way back 
through the fog. And Mordane began his journey on into 
Alevandria. Which lay many miles from the city of Cairo. 

Upon this same morning Theron was conferring with the 
council broad in the council chamber. 

This country with the richest market in the world. With 
the superior working conditions, to surrender all its natural 
advantages, permitting itself to lie under the advantage of 
another country’s gain. Another country’s prosperity. It 
is preposterous! Utterly ridiculous. 

Theron was the speaker. 

And yet it is a monstrous problem to solve, Theron, spake 
one of the members. 

Thou art scoping the government very narrowly, for under 
the present government Theron, the industrial staff which 
has been appointed by the councillors. Have they not at- 
tempted to mobilize this finance of the treasury bonds, until 
it is nearly an attempt? Do not their reports show their 
entanglements, their lack of diplomacy in all their financial 
efforts have thrown the treasury in debt. 

In truth, spake another. I am in this opinion. That thou 
art in error, Theron. 


160 


A Princess of the Orient 


The treasury issues a call for more funds! 

This is not because of any lack of diplomacy, any lack 
of keen business schemes of the Councillors. Upon my faith, 
these funds are called for to be used in the election fund. 

And, Theron while this scheme might bring in some 
money for the government, through the effort of the political 
workers, it will not save Cairo’s market from free trade ex- 
ports. 

That I well know, sir. The free trade exports this will be 
legislated for in the next congress. That is a coming bill to 
be introduced whereby a trade expansion and supremacy 
will reach to the fartherest bordring countries, answered 
Theron, gravely. 

And a reciprocal concession if we enter into a reciprocity 
pact with Persia will be a worthy measure, spake M. Cleve- 
lande with a nod of his head. 

But doth Persia stand ready for this commercial enter- 
prise? asked one. 

Yestern-day it was, I caught the rumor at the literary con- 
gress that Persia so rich in funds, stands absolutely alone. 
She remains unfriendly to Egypt. 

Nonsense! Persia may wish to stand self protected. 
Therein, she counts her own glories. But my fellow-men, 
there may be yet builded a bridge of Asses spanning the 
desert between Egypt and Persia. Behold! The Shah this 
renowned ruler may be the lame devil sitting in the middle 
of the bridge! 

Ye gods! wisely spoken, cried several voices, which ended 
in coarse laughter at this attempt of humor. 

The Shah must yield to the mighty King of Egypt. For 
Egypt is her most powerful neighbor. 

Hail the King of Egypt! cried all the members as they 
stood upon their feet. Then they seated themselves again 
in all seriousness. 

Perhaps. We will be obliged to change the date of the 
election for it will require more time to accomplish this. 

Gentlemen, it is my opinion. That we are borrowing un- 
due courage with far fetched methods. And I fear quite 
useless hope. 

To change the election date? Why that is impossible, 
queried one. 

It is the saving method by which the civic body can oper- 
ate, responded another member of the council. 

Can it be done legally? queried one. 


A Princess of the Orient 


161 


By one legislative measure we are entitled to such a move. 

Then that is encouraging. And now. Having acted, and 
likewise agreed upon this. That the election date shall be 
changed by right of the tenth legislative measure found re- 
corded in the laws of the past sitting. We must make ready 
provisions for such an act. And M. Clevelande. The offi- 
cial announcement of the change of the election date. At- 
tend to it at once. Make it a special business at once. 

Andrewe, upon the morrow. With Calies thou make ready 
to journey into Persia. The journey I have posponed. And 
shortly. I shall send the herald to thy office chapel. The 
herald, that which thou will present to the Persian Shah. 

Gentlemen, thy secrecy is bound in honour to thy loyalty, 
continued Theron. 

Aye I responded all the members in the zeal for their duty. 

Then. The council adjourned. Every member had left 
the, chamber and Theron meditated as he swung his broad 
shoulders, his lithe figure out of the chapel. He found his 
way into the court connecting the chapels of this immense 
rotund government building. A cynical smile crept over his 
face. He laughed aloud. And uttered words which sounded 
like this phrase. 

True as the gods of Wisdom — there is a rose-bud hidden 
in the bush 1 Prince Governor M. Theron! This voice come 
suddenly upon him. 

And Theron lifted his eyes and met a heralder from the 
King. 

Theron taking the rolled papyrus hastily read these words 
— Prince Governor M. Theron: The court commissioners 
of the free exports committee are hereby notified to meet 
within the council chamber to-day upon the hour of three. 

Theron stood as stunned. It was a base trickery and com- 
ing from the hand of Canterre! And he uttered an oath 
under his breathe. 

And Theron clenched his fists as he paced back and forth 
in the court. 

Tristos! I will do it, I swear by the gods! And Theron 
spake hurriedly. 

He hastened through the courts entering into his own of- 
fice chapel. In a den leading from this office, and lazily re- 
clining upon a divan half hidden with damask draperies. A 
black slave lay in nearly a sleep. 

Tristos! Tristos! I say. Thou lazy dog — drunk again! 


162 


A Princess of the Orient 


And with these words Theron raised the black man upon 
his feet, handling him, roughly. 

Aye I My master! The stupified slave muttered as he at- 
tempted to adjust his coat, and to settle his himself. 

Get thee up. Drunk. Always drunk 1 exclaimed Theron. 

Pardon my master, cried the slave bowing in awkard mo- 
tion. I am not drunk. I was but asleep. 

Then get thee up, show thy master thou art a sober man. 
And in service. For have a care, thou dost not provote thy 
master more with thy stupid ways. 

The black man clumsily walked out into the chapel, then 
back into the den. His steps not too steady. But Theron 
had turned aside and did not watch him. 

My master, I am sober, he attempted to catch the friendly 
eye of Theron. 

Yea! As sober as the like of thee ever are. Come here. 
Listen well to my words, Tristos. 

And the slave inclined his head and listened, for a fear 
had seized him. And he thought to be punished by his 
master. 

TristoS, look at me, replied Theron severely. Whereupon 
the slave raised his face squarely and looked into the eyes of 
Theron. 

Tristos. Thou can remember the iron cage in the comer 
of the federal chapel building? 

And the black man’s eyes glared in fright. 

I do my master. The one I broke the gate to? Ventured 
the slave. 

The same. Go thou there. At once. Nay. Wait until 
the evening shadows fall. Then go there and enter into that 
gate. And then, open the vault there in this chapel. 

The brick vault, my master queried the slave in cowering 
words. 

The bricked vault, Tristos. Do exactly as I bid thee. 
Open that vault. Upon the last marble shelf. There is a 
brass chest. Look thou into this chest. Among the docu- 
ments and therein thou wilt find one papyrus. And this 
papyrus with a scarlet border is waxed with a purple seal. 
This will be the right one. Get it. Do not fail and fetch 
it at once to me. Within the lodge in the Concubine 
Temple. Now, dost thou understand my orders? 

Aye! Aye! master. I understand. At nightfall I am to 
go and get the scarlet edged papyrus, with the purple seal 


A Princess of the Orient 


163 


from the bricked vault. I am then, to fetch it to thee in 
thy lodge in the Concubine Temple. 

Exactly so, Tristos. And if thou fail me. Thy head for 
the price. 

As Theron turned aside, the black slave slipped back into 
the corner of the den, lowering in fright. 

Then. Upon the hour of three in the afternoon of this 
day. The meeting of the free export committee commis- 
sioners was called to order by the President of the Council. 

A long tedious meeting came to an unexpected end, and 
without any definite understanding or terms; when at the 
suggestion of Theron. The meeting was postponed until 
the morning of the second day following this day. 

Whereupon this meeting was agreed. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

The Arrest of The Prince Governor M. Theron. 

The evening shadows fell upon Cairo. Lady Vivian had 
left the sick chamber of the aged Jew. She hastened her 
steps for she was quite unattended. And the night grew 
upon her. In one palm avenue she ran for she was unseen 
by any one. Going directly into one of the court gardens 
nearest the government building. Which building she was 
obliged to pass en route the palace. Her eyes fell upon the 
sight of a man and the slides of a lantern was plainly seen. A 
tramp? Nay. She stood quite still. However the man did 
not see her. He was coming out from the federal building 
and he cautiously fled, a few spaces. Then suddenly he 
stopped. He drew from his long belted coat a document. 
Then he replaced it within his pocket and with his hand 
tightly upon this pocket he ran swiftly on. 

All this. Lady Vivian was witness to from her position. 

As he came near her the light of the lantern which hung 
upon this garden hedge fell directly upon the veiled face of 
Lady Vivian. She glared at this man and she recognized 
the face of the black slave who had accosted her in the rose 
field several days before. 

Rudely the man tore her veil away from her face. 

Caught! he muttered between his closed teeth. It is Lady 
Vivian, daughter to the King. And with one bound he 
leaped towards her. He clutched her throat until she fell ex- 
hausted upon the ground. Then with out looking back, he 
ran faster, faster. Never stopping once, until he reached the 
Concubine Temple. 

He ran in the temple so brilliantly lighted. Within a lux- 


164 


A Princess of the Orient 


urious lodge of this temple sat Theron and before him was 
seated the Princess Roxana. 

The Princess was speaking. She was bent in anger and 
much agitated. 

I have come to-night, she was saying. But I warn thee 
Theron if ever thou dare such another debased trickery! 

What then, my pretty one? laughed Theron wickedly as 
he lifted a goblet of sparkling wine to his lips. 

I am done with thee. Thou base deceiver of all mankind. 
No more will I ever stoop to play a hand in thy corrupt 
games. 

Not so fast, my pet, laughed he. And he settled himself 
most comfortably between brightly designed pillows, and 
these upon a reed divan. He lighted a cigarette. He puffed 
the smoke most viciously. And the Princess stood looking 
upon him in contempt. 

I have come here to-night because, began she. 

Because I sent for thee my love. Come. Wax not so mad 
with me. 

Because. I come to warn thee against any farther at- 
tempt to communicate thy foul trickery to the Shah. I 
have served thee enough. And I hate thee! The vengeance 
of the gods upon thee! 

And Theron laughed between his puffs of smoke, as she 
stood in such defiant attitude. 

Now a jeweled lantern hung over the divan upon which 
Theron reclined. Then. Suddenly she tore this lantern 
from its brass chain, she threw it into the insolent face of 
Theron. Then she quickly left the lodge, going out into the 
public roadway. And Theron thoroughly astonished gath- 
ered up the broken pieces of the red lantern. He brushed 
the oil from his cheek. And at this moment the door opened 
noiselessly. Theron looked anxiously. Had the Princess 
repented and was she returning to him? But it was Tristos, 
who entered into the lodge. Down upon his knees before 
Theron, he drew the document from his coat. And Theron 
snatched it from the hand of the slave. His eyes scanned 
the document. It had a red border. It contained the pur- 
ple seal. And he read it in part, turning to the slave. 

Good work Tristos! Good work my man! And so speak- 
ing Theron filled a goblet with wine giving it to the slave. 

This was the price of the deed! And the slave devoured 
its contents with a relish of a gourmand. 

After the Princess departed from the lodge of Theron in 


A Princess of the Orient 


165 


the concubine temple, she went directly into the public high- 
way. She was wholly unafraid, but she was much angered. 
She walked fast with her head erect. In a turn in the high- 
way, she took a roadway passing through the gardens of the 
rotund government building. She came to a sudden halt. In 
front of her upon the roadway lay the form, of a woman. She 
knelt down beside this woman and looking into her un- 
covered face. She recognized the face of Lady Vivian. 

Lady Vivian! she exclaimed. Then she spoke gently to 
arouse her and at the sound of her name. Lady Vivian 
opened her eyes but closed them, instantly. She remains in 
a semi-consciousness thought the Princess. And turning she 
ran to a long row of buildings nearest this avenue, and ran 
into an office, where she came upon a group of men as- 
sembled in some sort of a meeting. 

She burs ted in upon these men in wild tones, exclaiming, 
The Lady Vivian! The Lady Vivian daughter to the King! 

These men jumped upon their feet and in one voice they 
cried. What sayst thou of the Lady Vivian? 

Lady Vivian! She has been injured and she doth lie upon 
the court avenue. Hurry! 

Lady Vivian? Where is she now they asked. 

She doth lie upon the Court Avenue, just in front of the 
federal building. She is alone and unconscious. Hurry, 
Please! 

And the Princess ran out of this office, followed by these 
men. Coming at last to the place where she lay. They bent 
over her and attempted to arouse her but in vain. Then they 
gently bore her in their arms. On they walked with the 
Princess following them. It was but a short distance to the 
King’s Palace. 

The King seated within his chapel turned, as he heard a 
rap upon the door of his chapel. 

Maniere some one enters. Who is it? 

The attendant opened the door and these men bearing the 
seemingly lifeless body of Lady Vivian, walked in. Without 
ceremony. The King saw at once. That the limp form of 
the woman they bore in their arms was that of his daughter. 

Vivian, my child! What has happed to my daughter? 
Vivian, speak to me. And the King bent over her, but she 
answered him not. The King turned in his intense excite- 
ment and he beheld the Princess standing close to him. 

O King, I was walking rapidly into the roadway leading 
from the government building. 


166 


A Princess of the Orient 


Upon hearing these words the King replied. Thou 
Princess, at this evening hour? 

Your Highness, I was returning home from. And the 
Princess faltered as the King’s eyes were piercing her. Then 
she continued. 

I was returning from the settlement and I came suddenly 
upon Lady Vivian. She was all but unconscious and lying 
face downward upon the roadway. 

The men rested Lady Vivian upon a divan. The King 
bent over her prostrate form rubbing her hands and calling 
her name in most endearing terms. Then after having taken 
some wine she faintly opened her eyes and she saw the King 
kneeling by her side. She cried. Father! And smiling faint- 
ly she closed her eyes once more. 

The Princess remained the whole night through with Lady 
Vivian, in her bed chamber. Late into the morning Lady 
Vivian seemed quite herself again, but for a few bruises upon 
her throat. She talked freely to the Princess. Then, the 
Princess asked for the King. Whereupon the King came at 
once, fearing the worst but his eyes fell upon the smiling 
face of his daughter, as she reclined upon her bed-couch. 

He caressed her with tears in his eyes and with trembling 
voice. 

Daughter thou art thyself now. I want thee, my little 
one, to tell me of this happening. 

My father dear. Then she raised herself upon her elbow 
and the King seated beside her put his arms around her, 
holding her tenderly. 

Father mine I had visited the sick Jew. I remained quite 
late into the evening with him, reading to him. 

But, my daughter. Thou shouldst never go out of the 
palace unattended. And more especially in the eveningtide. 

Yea father mine. The sick man was so wretched and 
lonely. I remained quite late, as I was telling thee. Upon 
leaving his chamber I hurriedly walked, choosing the avenue 
round the government building as that would lead me more 
quickly home. Just as I was well into the middle of the 
avenue, I saw the form of a man. He had broken loose one 
of the iron bars of the outside gate which leads into the gov- 
ernment building. 

The King interrupted her. 

But the door keeper? He must have been there, queried 
the King. 

The door keeper must have been bribed or perhaps. 


A Princess of the Orient 


167 


Drugged. I know not what. But this man he was coming 
out of the government building. He came out of the build- 
ing by the outer gate and by means of this broken bar. He 
drew from his coat a document and after looking at it with 
care, he replaced it again in his pocket. 

Daughter mine! Thou surely art mistaken. 

Nay, father. I tell thee I saw him coming out of this 
gate. I crouched within the shadow of one of the palms. 
Alack! Just as he was opposite me, his eyes fell upon me. 

I started to run and he caught me. Roughly he tore my 
face covering away. 

These were his words. Lady Vivian, the daughter to the 
King! 

Upon this the Lady Vivian shuddered and the King fond- 
ly caressed her. Then she continued. 

The man muttered. Caught! And he clutched my throat 
and I knew no more until the Princess spake to me, calling 
my name. It must have been some time later. 

Then this man, exclaimed the King bending over her with 
a look of terror. 

Father mine. He only bruised my throat, then believing 
me to be, I do not know what, she continued. At lenght he 
ran. And father dear. A spy, he must have been. 

A spy? Extraordinary! And what of this man then? 
asked the King. 

A black man, murmured she in rather faint words. 

A black man! Then a man of hire, cried the King as he 
looked perplexed. 

The same black man has approached me before, father. 

A black man has approached thee before this day? My 
dear, I heard nothing of it. Why hast thou not told me? 

I thought not to burden thee, father mine. One day I was 
seated in the rose fields of the Feiyoom and as I sat lost in 
some idle fancy and scribbing a bit of verse. Suddenly. I 
felt a hot breathe upon my cheek. I turned my head and I 
saw the face of this same black man; glaring into my face. 
He snatched the papyrus from me, disappearing in the 
hedge around the field. It was of no value whatever as my 
scribbing was but a bit of verse. 

What! This infernal fellow so dare to follow and molest 
the daughter to the King? 

But father dear, it was of no consequence. 

Perhaps, until now, my child. It doth stand a strange 


168 


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happening. Couldst thou have no rememberance of this 
black man? 

It dost seem father that I must know this black man. I do 
believe he belongs to the Prince Governor. 

At these spoken words. The Princess staggered back 
against the wall and her eyes swam in horrid pictures. 

The black scoundrel! Muttered the King. A thief for 
the Prince Governor! 

A spy in truth and more too. And now. This man shall 
pay the penalty of his double crime. 

And the King then arose abruptly. He went into a chapel 
leading from this chapel. There he heralded an officer into 
the quarters of Theron with the command to return only. 
With this black man. 

Now the King’s eyes blurred with excitement and he sat 
twitching his fingers. 

Maniere what ever could be this man’s steal, asked the 
King. 

Your Majesty, there are many valuable documents locked 
within the federal vault. 

Truly there are, Maniere. But. Which one could the 
thief want? Rather. Which one could the Prince Governor 
wish? 

That is a close question your Majesty replied Maniere. 

They were interrupted by a rap at the door. 

Maniere, the door. And Maniere hastened to open the 
door. Whereupon, the officer entered with the black man. 

Tristos — dog! Upon thy kness before the King, spake 
Maniere. 

And the black man trembling, dropped upon his knees be- 
fore the King. 

Fool! It is the King who commands thee. Come be 
quicke. What document didst thou steal from the federal 
vault last night? 

Tristos shook with fright, he glanced at the severe face of 
his King. 

Your Highness, O King! It was the document of the free 
exports. 

Then the black man fell upon his face and shook with a 
terror. 

Tristos, raise thy head. Look! Thou darst to lie to thy 
King? And the King’s eyes were fastened upon him with 
a merciless pity. 

Mercy, mercy, O King, cried he. J swear I do speak the 


A Princess of the Orient 


169 


truth. It was the document with a red border and a purple 
seal. 

The same, answered the King. Where is this document 
now? 

Your Highness I delivered it safely into the hands of my 
Master. Mercy! O, King. 

Thy Master? queried the King. And who is thy Master? 

The Prince Governor M. Theron, your Majesty. 

Then. Thy master, the Prince Governor M. Theron, he 
doth hold this document? 

O King, my master dost hold this document. 

Then, thou black dog! What of thy brutal insult upon 
the Lady Vivian? 

Tristos cowered lower. 

A black dog to lay hands upon the daughter to the King, 
exclaimed Maniere. 

O Mercy, your Highness. I meant no hurt to the Lady 
Vivian. 

Cease thy muttering, dog! 

Officer, the black brute to the guard yard, commanded the 
King. 

0 King! It was my master who drove me to do it. I 
would not harm the Lady Vivian. 

Cease thy mutterings. Thou black man without a Soul. 

Officer, this man. Have him shot at once. Go. 

Only a few attendants heard the shot which killed the 
black slave, a few moments later. And now, Tristos was no 
more. 

The King’s face was dark with madness as he remained 
alone within his chapel. 

While the Princess alarmed after having heard that Tris- 
tos was the assailant of Lady Vivian. She left the chamber, 
returning at once into her own apartments. 

And Lady Vivian was wholly recovered. She had really 
suffered fright more than injury. 

The Prince Governor has been out all the day, since early 
morning, sir. 

When dost thou expect the Prince Governor? 

That I know not. He with a party of huntsmen departed 
at earliest dawn. They are coursing with the hounds, sir. 

By which roadway did his party go? 

1 know that not, either, good Sir. They were off for the 
fields. So they told, me, sir. 

Off for the fields, ye stupid? There are fields in , many di- 


170 


A Princess of the Orient 


rections. Did not the Prince Governor mention to thee. 
Whether their route lay beyond the acacias borders or 
through the Sycamore trees? 

That I know not, Sir. The words of the Prince Governor 
to me Sir, as he rode away with his party were these. Take 
thou jolly good care of thyself to-day, Felicos, and be wait- 
ing for us. We fetch a guest into the Court when we return. 

A guest, sir, I asked the Prince Governor. 

Whereupon he answered me saying. A guest, Felicos. We 
come with Eblis. 

Aye, spake I. Your Highness be he a royal Prince of the 
Orient? This Eblis? 

Stupid, replied he. The Oriental Prince of Darkness. ’Tis 
he. Watch for us. We shall come unless we course into 
Joseph’s sunken well. 

And sir, with these words the party was off. Ah! It was 
a merry party indeed! They went on noisy steed, answered 
Felicos bowing with a pride for his master. 

Am I to understand then, the Prince Governor will not 
return until nightfall? 

Aye! Aye! My good sir. 

Very well Felicos. And Felicos watched these two men as 
they slowly walked away. He felt, too. A curious suspicion 
that all was not well with his master. 

At the close of the day, this party of huntsmen jolly. 
Reached a rural chapel inn. Where they stopped upon the 
return from this chase. 

The surrounding rural beauties here were splendid and 
inviting to these fatigued huntsmen. The late afternoon 
sun cast rich light upon the whole landscape. The fields 
were mellow in this reflection of nearly golden colouring. 
The flowering hedge blooming in fresh clusters encircled the 
fields, dividing them in spots, in centers of green. 

The free birds sang from their happy circles. And their 
chants served greatly to invite these huntsmen into this 
rural spot. 

The entire party. One and all were fatigued, yet they 
still contained a spirit of sport and they were jolly in their 
free careless manner. 

Entering into this picturesque inn. Leaving their horses 
to be stabled by attendants. The party was met with a 
jolly and rounded looking man with a face as rosy as a win- 
ter’s apple. 


A Princess of the Orient 


171 


Welcome! Welcome! Weary hunters he cried with a 
cherry voice. 

Welcome indeed! Merchier. Aye, weary, weary but my 
good man. Behold, a mighty game we fetch. 

In goodly truth, a mighty game replied he. Come in. 
Gentlemen make thyselves comfortable. 

And all gathered roimd a large table. They smoked, they 
related tales of famous chases. Each man contained the ca- 
pacity of relating the most wonderful chase. 

The light of a huntsman was in the eye of every man. 

Our steed is stabled, the game doth brew. Come, more 
of the day’s chase? 

I trowth Merchier doth wish for news of the day’s chase. 

And Merchier stood in their midst, his jolly round face 
beaming with a light of the sport. 

So he does. Well our goodly friend and host Merchier, 
I will tell thee of the chase. 

Aye! Aye! resounded the voices of the men, while Mer- 
chier rubbed his fat hands together in the anticipation. 

The party was circled round the table, which stood before 
a huge fireplace. And this fireplace was burning a very light 
flame. For cheer more than for heat, for the day had been 
delightfully warm. And the flame gathered from all the 
huntsmen, what we may class. A highly coloured imagina- 
tion. And this individual imagination made the most won- 
derful setting for Theron’s tale. 

Theron began in glowing words, while the party each sat 
glaring into the fireplace and were scarcely visible through 
the curling smoke from their long stemmed pipes. 

The morning was bright even in the hours of peeping dawn, 
to begin our day’s chase. The breezes but slight were great. 
The sun not too blazing as it climbed higher in the skies, 
shone upon our paths as if to bribe us more. Our steed was 
in perfect trim for they are of the finest breed and in ex- 
cellent training. The hounds were wild in excitement of the 
trail and they followed the right path in keenest scent. 

Aye! Aye! broke in several voices. 

And Theron continued. Our luck was capital! Ah! wait 
Merchier until thou taste of the game. And Theron waved 
his hand above his head. 

Ye gods! spake Merchier that I could once more partake 
of a chase. 

Alack! But that is the sport of the youth. I have had my 


172 


A Princess of the Orient 


fling at it, and speaking thus, this old inn keeper sadly shook 
his white head. 

What! The dinner gong? And upon hearing the ring of 
the gong. The famished men jumped in leaps. In the din- 
ing chapel, a table was laden with steaming broth. The 
wines were rich and sparkling. And the dinner consisted al- 
most entirely of the fresh game, garnished but little with 
other dishes. 

The dinner was not in the beginning, one. whit gloomy. 
Neither colourless. Yet in truth a forebearing gloom seemed 
to disquiet Theron. Slightly the corners of his mouth moved 
in a smile. His face beamed in hypocritical emotion. And 
as it were. A memory floated before his eyes. Just a few 
spoken words fell in echoes upon him. And the face of the 
Princess was before him. 

The Princess had spoken these words as they had been 
seated at a feasting table within the palace. And they stung 
him. 

“Thou couldst even sip of hyson at an Egyptian Feast, 
with goodly grace.” 

He recalled his answer to her biting phrase. My Princess 
thy presence doth enchant this savory repast. Thou art 
most too ready with thy repartee! 

Whereupon she responded quietly. In truth, Theron thy 
technic of an Egyptian gentleman is well pronounced. In 
the race of yestern-day, I trowth, I would have ridden thy 
handsome steed. And thou wouldst have ridden. Rather. 
Thou wouldst have taken the howdah upon an elephant, rid- 
ing behind me. 

Such a gallant Knight sir! 

Then he smiled now, as he recalled his answer to her. 

Peradventure, thou art doing a penance! My Princess 
thou art so peeved. 

Were it so, Theron. I would feign not issue a different 
mood. A Mask! 

Indeed, then my fair one, thou shall be laureated for thy 
peerless qualities. 

As Theron sat in this memory. He lifted his head and his 
comrades were looking upon him intently and also in a merry 
way. 

Theron, Comrade! We are calling thee. Why so pensive? 

At this moment Theron broke his mental vision of this 
past feast and he shook off these haunting thoughts. 


A Princess of the Orient 


173 


Ah! Good fellows all! I crave thy pardon. I was but 
enjoying this dinner. 

Gods! but the brew is splendid. But I confess, the brew- 
ing of the game is not so exciting as the chase. 

Neither is it so savory, eh Theron? answered one of the 
huntsmen. 

Just then a confusion from without the dining chapel. 
And the guests become quiet and in plain, clear words they 
heard voices that were highly pitched as in a disturbance. 
And among these voices, the voice of Merchier was highest 
pitched. 

I tell thee, I cannot admit thee. The Prince Governor is 
the host to a party of huntsmen. They are dining now, 
sirs. 

Open thy door. Admit me in the name of the law, came 
the loud voice. 

Merchier opened the door at once. He admitted two 
worthy men. And these men were officers of the law. They 
held a warrant for the arrest of the Prince Governor M. 
Theron. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

In The Society of The Gods. 

Against the pretty blue of the sky, the trees stood in con- 
trast. 

The greenest leaves with the pinkest blooms. The brown 
limbs with the scarlet blossoms. Lavishly fragrance of 
sweet buds came wafted on the breezes. 

The Majestic Temple! This temple stood conspicuously 
in the midst of a large square garden and this garden was in 
an obscure part of Cairo. 

This temple was called The Palace of Perfume. 

The most polite society of Cairo were entering in this 
temple from several walks bordered and divided by acacias 
plants. Some walks were bordered by small trees cut which 
were trimmed in odd shapes. 

And a branch of the Laurel was the Symbol of Apollo’s 
Inspiration ! 

A soft mystic glow by chance by placing the beautiful be- 
fore the good. The mystic before the practical, was bourne 
by this one god of the noted cycle of gods. 

Perfect drawings. Gorgeous silhouettes made with elab- 
orate mosaic outlines which were distinctly marked out with 
Mother of Pearl, with opaque shades. Near the second door- 
way over which stood the transparent artistic dome of the 


174 


A Princess of the Orient 


temple. A beautiful square base stood from which sprung 
and gathered the most unusual spring of water, tripping it 
in a graceful manner. 

Each guest, who had entered was served by youths pouring 
citron waters from a large bowl of carved brass. This bowl 
of brass was made after the fashion of the Egyptian Ibis. 
And it was a handsome model being a perfect imitation, with 
its black enameled plumage so richly glossed with bronze, 
touched and outlined with bluest blue and vivid green. 

Harps being played upon a hidden balcony, chants being 
sung in the brilliantly lighted temple, the burning incense 
delicate enough to be an inspiration. Every one was thrilled. 

Lady Vivian! 

Canterre who had entered the temple was alone. He 
lifted a goblet of citron waters to his lips, a moment before. 
When by chance as it were. The name of Lady Vivian fell 
upon him. Upon hearing this voice, he placed the goblet 
upon the tray. Untouched. 

He turned and Lady Vivian was near him. She stood sur- 
rounded by a circle of court ladies. And he stood admiring 
her. He thought. She is a beautiful picture! 

And a picture that sunk deep upon Canterre. 

She was a vision of refreshing beauty. Wearing a robe of 
whitest gauze embroidered with gold threads and the seed 
pearl. Her robe was fashioned loosely being held around the 
waist by a cord of pearls. Upon her head she wore an em- 
broidered pearl cap fastened under the chin with a huge 
brilliant ruby. Red. Redder than a berry. Her only jewel 
was a magnificent jeweled snake bracelet with eyes of black 
pearls. To this bracelet was attached an oddly shaped scent 
casket. 

The beauty of Lady Vivian did not alone attract Canterre. 
As he watched her he thought. Truly she is a brilliant schol- 
ar standing conspicuous amid the wonderous fashion of this 
splendid period. And not altogether. Was Canterre partial. 
For she had been pronounced a favorite with the court 
ladies as well as with the men of letters. Not alone did her 
abilities garnish her personality but her polished culture, in 
beautiful manners combined with the purity, the uprightness 
of her character. She was loved by every woman and child 
in Cairo. 

Upon this occasion, the morbid sensationalism enshroud- 
ing Lady Vivian, nearly was shown, for the attention of her 
favoured companions were riveted by it. 


A Princess of the Orient 


175 


She was suffering some kind of a fear secretly, for Can- 
terre. And it was upon the occasion of a few moments past, 
when she had overheard a conversation, concerning Can- 
terre. As she had been seated within one comer of the 
temple. 

From this she learned that the government rested really, 
with the King’s consent. Thus giving the King the power 
to dismiss and to appoint at his will any official. From the 
royal Controller to the commandant of the city. Sanctioned 
by common error a foreign bom man could not best qualify 
for official duty in Egypt. Unless his allegiance was duly 
sworn. And she knew that Canterre’s strenght of a steady 
persistency to serve the King was declared. And his ability 
to serve the common people was established. But. Can- 
terre being loyal to a foreign birth, she knew had stood the 
severe test and had succeeded in standing in not too goodly 
favour with the King. Although the King gave no utter- 
ance to such an expressed opinion. 

Lady Vivian, just the moment past had learned some few 
reports of the system of work actuated by Theron. Yet with 
it all, she was hopeful for Canterre. 

She was leaving the circle of her friends and unveiling her 
lovely eyes she met the eyes of Canterre. Squarely his. De- 
murely hers. 

A figure that has the possession of an air of divinity, the 
face of Adonis upon the body of Hercules, thought Lady Vi- 
vian. 

And Canterre thought. Hers is a majesty accompanied by 
the Graces to charm all observers. 

It was no artificial ecstacy that bespoke the mind of each 
of these lovers. 

Greetings Vivian ! And Canterre tenderly clasped her ex- 
tended hand. 

I bid thee welcome Canterre, responded she in a most 
gentle and charming voice. 

It is indeed a cherished pleasure to meet thee Vivian. I 
came. I really did venture the hope of being intoxicated 
with thy sweet smiles, Vivian. And it doth glad my heart, 
for my wish is all but fulfilled. And upon the moment of 
my entrance into the temple. My searching eyes found thee. 
The central figure of a lovely group of fair ladies. Thy- 
self, the loveliest of them all. 

I thank thee most graciously, Canterre. And with down 
cast eyes she continued. 


176 


A Princess of the Orient 


And Canterre doth not the adorable beauty of the temple, 
with its melodious ease, its simplicity of strenght transform 
one’s mind into a bower of heavenly delight? 

Rather. My fairest of all ladies. A charm from thy sweet 
self doth enchant the guests. I trowth, I too, not alone ac- 
cept of thy sweet charm as a grace bestowed by the will of 
the gods. But. I hold thy pretty graces. And they canst 
ne’er be counted. Nay. Not with a thousand tongues. 
These graces veil my heart and soul and lo! There springs 
from this gods’ woven veil, a hope for a hungry heart. And 
Vivian. I am lonely without thee. 

Lady Vivian’s eyes were fastened upon the fishes that 
played in the waters of a fountain near to where they were 
standing and Canterre did not understand. For her lovely 
eyes were filled with tears. 

Without lifting her eyes from the fountain’s pool she 
answered him. 

Canterre, I prythee. May we not speak of myself now. 

Then, thou wouldst bid me bury my hope? And the de- 
sires of my heart? When upon this day of all days, my 
heart doth hunger for thy dear love? 

But she turned her face away from him that he might not 
detect the blushes that tinged her cheeks. That he might 
not note the tear that glistened in her eye. 

Vivian he continued. Now I want thee most. 

And she still remained silent. And then the strong face 
of Canterre paled. 

A terrible look came upon his face. And he spake with 
strange voice, not harsh but subdued and toned down. 

Vivian then they are true? These tales have filled me with 
a haunted fear for weeks. And Vivian. My Godl I could 
have believed thou hast issued thy influence with the King 
for Theron. This I might have persuaded myself to be 
true. Ye gods! I cannot believe that after all thou dost 
love this man, Theron. 

Vivian, speak to me. Say it is not true. And Canterre’s 
head was lowered upon his breast and his eyes cast upon the 
floor. 

Canterre, stop! Thy words are all untrue. These words 
are faithless to the honour which doth lie deep within thy 
soul. For Canterre. Like the tears which bathe the dawn 
my tears have bathed the hope of thy victory. I have hoped, 

I have prayed for thee, alone. And thou must have been 
blinded with an opthalmia not to have divined it. 


A Princess of the Orient 


177 


Vivian, cried he. And he bent more closely over her, 
speaking in a low voice. 

And his words were only for Lady Vivian to hear. 

At just this time as these two lovers stood thus. A voice 
in an earnest conversation floated upon them. Canterre 
glanced at Lady Vivian with a lightning glance. And her 
eyes were upon Canterre as they listened. The voice was 
saying. 

Canterre, the non-Egyptian has set about to pen disserta- 
tions on the futility of fame. Upon the burden of celebrity. 
He lends note of his strenght of loyalty, his protection of the 
common as a duty of true consciousness. The usual con- 
suetude of a candidate in political campaign. I ween he 
works to catch the breeze of popular applause. This is his 
outstanding desire. 

Me thinks as certain as dawn, spake another. He sets 
himself up as clamorous for the clean freedom of trodden 
people of Cairo. 

And these two men speaking in this conversation passed 
on into the busy throng of the people. And their words 
floated on beyond the ears of the two listeners. 

When they had passed on. Lady Vivian held out her hand 
to Canterre. Who stood pallid with something nearly a 
smouldering angry passion, incensed by this violent insult. 

Faugh 1 exclaimed he in angry tones. 

A)'d just then, from among the people Lady Catherine ap- 
proached them. She came in a gay and easy manner. But 
she hesitated as she looked upon their faces. 

Vivian, my sweet companion, I have searched every court 
in this whole temple for thee. Where hast thou been all this 
time? 

Catherine I have been only near this same spot. I have 
just met Canterre, when before I was with the court ladies 
here. 

And Canterre, I greet thee, continued Lady Catherine. It 
is pleasant to meet thee again. Indeed it is a rarely meet, 
for these gatherings in the palace of perfume are massed 
with strangers. 

Gracious thanks Catherine. I grant thee I do come sel- 
dom to these festivals. I always beg forgiveness in the name 
of work. 

Always at thy labours Canterre, responded Lady Vivian 
with a fond pride in her eye. 

And the greatest gift of the heavens for manl Labour the 


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A Princess of the Orient 


sweetest balm! responded he, and his eyes became serious 
with a study. 

The rarest jewel in man’s crown, answered Lady Cather- 
ine. I do quite agree with Canterre. For without work the 
whole universe would wax dull and soon fall into decay. 

Ah! Catherine, thou dost indeed possess a sweet manner 
of speaking, together with comely judgement. Thy pardon! 
If I compliment thee too much, Catherine. 

But I trowth Canterre since thou can hold the highest 
favour with my sweet companion. Thou mayst speak thy 
mind to me always. And she turned to Lady Vivian. 

Vivian dear, thou art greatly in demand. Many times thy 
name has been called. 

And my father did he bid me come? Catherine doth he 
wish me? 

The King bids me fetch thee to him at once, Vivian. 

Then I must go. Canterre thou mayst join us into the 
chapel? The King will delighted. I may speak for him. 

And the ladies will be charmed Canterre; do come, spake 
Lady Catherine. 

I must decline with apoligies to the King. I thank thee 
fair ladies but I shall join thee later. 

And then turning away the ladies disappeared in the gay 
assembly. And as Lady Vivian glanced over the head of 
Lady Catherine she saw Canterre still standing where they 
left him. And his eyes were following them. 

Canterre was visibly angered. The passing conversation 
wrought his passion. And suddenly, he rushed out of the 
temple. He went a short distance. His thoughts ran faster 
than his steps, when he came to a complete standstill. 

Upon a mount of verdant foilage sat. A girl. Shaking in 
sobs. Upon seeing her Canterre gently raised her from the 
tangled foilage. He brushed her tangled mass of silken curls 
away from the face of Rubyat. 

Rubyat, my child! Here and in tears? 

He drew from his cloak a silken handkerchief and he 
gently wiped her tear stained face. And holding this pathet- 
ic girlish face between his hands he said. 

Now tell me child. What is it? Why art thou here and 
in tears? 

Canterre, I am so glad you came just now, she sobbed. 

Glad I came just now Rubyat? Did any one harm thee, 
child? 


A Princess of the Orient 


179 


Nay. Canterre but I knew I would find thee here so I 
waited here for thee. 

And what can I do for thee Rubyat? 

It is the Princess Roxana. I came to tell thee and to warn 
the Princess. 

Princess Roxana? I believe the Princess is not within the 
temple Rubyat, continued he vaguely. 

But she must be, answered Rubyat in a choked voice ; she 
is not in her chamber for I have just been there. 

Canterre looked perplexed. 

What danger threatens the Princess? 

Ah! the beautiful Princess she is in great danger for the 
Prince Governor threatens to hide her in the convent. 

The Prince Governor theatens to hide the Princess in the 
convent? What a silly notion Rubyat. Come tell me. What 
dost thou mean? Thou art surely foolish. 

Nay! Believe me Canterre. I overheard it all last night. 
1 was behind the cactus hedge. Please my good, kind Can- 
terre do not allow him to hide her in the horrid lonesome con- 
vent. And the girl sank upon her knees before him. 
She clung to his hands. Whereupon he lifted her up. 

Child, compose thyself. There is no such a danger for 
the Princess. 

But, I tell thee, there is danger for I heard it all from 
Theron’s lips. 

Alack! I can not credit any such statement. Why should 
Theron desire to secrete the Princess? And even so desiring, 
by what authority can he commit such a deed? 

I tell thee Canterre it is true. They have been in com- 
munication with the great Persian Shah. And Canterre de- 
fies the return of the Princess into her own country until 
her father, this Shah, consents to enter into some commer- 
cial contract with him. I can not recall what it is. 

Ye gods! Rubyat think hard my child. Was it the silken 
commerce? 

The silken commerce. That is it Canterre. The silken 
industries they spake only of the silken industries and of the 
Persian Shah. To bring this Shah to terms. So they spake. 

Canterre uttered something between his teeth. 

But Canterre thou will save the Princess? Please go to 
her at once. Do not allow them to hide her in this awful 
convent. It is worse than death, this awful convent with its 
dark walls and death still nuns all robed in black. 

Canterre interrupted this tragic attitude of the child. 


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A Princess of the Orient 


Rubyat, stammered he, she still clinging to him. Clutch- 
ing his cloak and sobbing. 

My Princess! My Princess I love her so much! 

And so we all love the Princess, child. 

Yea, but not as I do. And she loves Theron too, continued 
the girl. 

Why! How canst thou know all this Rubyat? 

Ah, Sir. I know it. She never spake a word to me of her 
love for Theron. But I know it, she said with a nod of her 
head. 

How canst thou know the secret of the Princess’s life, 
Rubyat? 

Because Canterre. I used to sit every day with the 
Princess when she was ill. 

And because. Because I love Theron. And I know she 
loves him. 

The girl buried her pretty face upon the shoulder of Can- 
terre. 

Canterre started at this frank confession and he stood 
looking down upon her. Not amused but in serious study. 

Just within close reach of this spot, a window in the 
temple swung open, upon its frame. And the Princess robed 
in palest blue made a pretty picture as she leaned upon this 
opening viewing the picturesque surroundings. When she 
started suddenly. For she saw Canterre and Rubyat stand- 
ing in this position. She could not mistake. It was Can- 
terre and Rubyat. What could it mean? 

Surely Canterre — nay! It could not be true. Canterre 
was probably consoling the child in some little sorrow. The 
Princess standing several moments thus, turned at a light 
footstep. 

And there by her side was standing Lady Vivian. 

So near to this opening, which afforded this unobstructed 
view of Canterre as he stood with Rubyat nearly in his arms 
and with her head upon his shoulder. 

Quick as a flash the Princess embraced Lady Vivian and 
with hasty motion she led her away from this opening. 

Princess. I am charmed but may we not remain here, 
queried Lady Vivian. I do crave a breathe of fresh air. The 
people most stiffle me. 

Vivian thou art nervous still from the shock of thy fright. 
Let us seek the larger opening across the Court. The view 
is more pleasing I am surely pleased to say for the breezes 
blown from the bay, all will serve to refresh thee more. 


A Princess of the Orient 


181 


Thou art most thoughtful with thy kindness Princess, 
answered Lady Vivian sweetly. Perhaps the larger window 
at the far end of the Court is much more pleasant. For the 
outlook upon the bay is beautiful always. And most re- 
freshing is the unused breeze from the splendid bay. Come. 
May we not remain here. I like it better. 

And Lady Vivian. In the far distant. Across the bay. 
Behold! The bright grandeur of this scenery. The green 
water of the bay is skirting the rocks. And there remains 
a hidden consciousness of its silent reign. Veiling it all with 
perhaps an invisible vapor, but a veil that was firm upon the 
whole picture. 

My charming Princess, tell me I prythee. What imfathom- 
able secret doth remain sunk into these serene waters? 

That I know not my dear. There is always a charm in 
water, be it serene, be it turbulent. 

And the solemnity of this same charm fell likewise upon 
these fair ladies. As it doth fall upon all who become a 
victim to the invisible force of water. 

Then they stood arm in arm before the window. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

A SCULPTORESS AT WORK. 

Truly spake the philosopher that the Master-piece of Art 
is the Apotheosis of Chivalrous passion for love! 

Catherine my dear, the models are divine. 

Sweetly spoken Vivian. And what say thee of my faun? 

The faun. It is wonderful. The genius is surely shend 
in this delicate work. 

Thy skillful hand hast made this Diety, dainty and grace- 
fully picturesque. The face so classic, the slight body. The 
graceful arms, the rounded limbs. The slender ankles- and 
the most perfect feet. Ah! It is indeed a rare creation. 

And speaking thus Lady Catherine followed by Lady Vi- 
vian walked away that she might view it at a different angle. 

Catherine that huge clinging serpent. At every twist of 
its supple body, how it clings to the slender figure of the 
Diety. As it rests its head upon the left arm. That magnif- 
icent bunch of grapes clasped in the hand. Truly thy hand 
strokes genius in every line. Thy touch is exquisite. It is 
indeed, sweet companion. 

And Vivian. It is for this delicate finish that I have 
striven all these hours of close modeling. For the finish of 
a Sculptoress is perfected by putting in all the shadows and 
in leaving all the lights. 


182 


A Princess of the Orient 


Lady Catherine I Come quicke. An accident has hap- 
pened just under the balcony. 

These two ladies heard these words from an attendant 
who ran breathlessly into the studio. 

An accident Aton? What is it? And where is it? ex- 
claimed both the ladies in one breathe. 

Lady Catherine, the accident just with out the gate. Come 
to the opening, the roadway is already blocked with the ex- 
citement. 

The ladies followed Aton and upon reaching the balcony 
they saw the crowd below. A sudden rush of mad people; for 
the people had already gathered there because it was the 
day of the great chariot race. Several chariots with their 
horses stamping with the excitement stood near this balcony. 
And this roadway led to the race course but a short distance 
below this balcony. 

As the ladies bent forward in eager excitement, they saw 
the crowd part. And two Courtiers came bearing the lifeless 
form of a slender girl. The body entirely covered was 
placed in an ambulance and driven slowly out through the 
crowded roadway. Then in this most awful anxious moment. 
Lady Catherine saw M. Clevelande directing Aton. He 
made his way slowly in her studio. He stood before her 
with a tiny bundle, as it were, within his arms. 

Lady Catherine eagerly approached him. A cry muffled 
yet distinct met her. 

And she stepped backward. 

M. Clevelande stepped forward. 

Catherine I prythee, thy good grace and thy pardon. It is 
by my directions that Aton doth fetch it here. Alack I I 
knew not what to do with it. 

And they stood looking at this bundle. 

But good friend 1 interrupted Lady Catherine. 

I trowth Catherine it is a breach in etiquette. What was 
to be done at that most fearful time? The horses had 
stamped the girl to death. And this tiny bundle. I snatched 
from her arms as she fell. And well, here it is, my dear. 

It is an infant babe, queried Lady Vivian, stepping closer. 

It sounds very much like a babe, Vivian, responded he 
with a nervous laugh. 

Aton, place the bundle here, and Lady Catherine made a 
comfortable place for it upon a divan. They uncovered it 
with care. It was in truth a tiny babe. 

They all stood apart looking much perplexed. 


A Princess of the Orient 


183 


The mother was stamped to her death? Asked Lady Cath- 
erine. 

Stamped merciless. It was a most wicked sight, answered- 
M. Clevelande. And he paled as he recalled this frightful 
scene and this tragic death. 

But, the driver of this chariot, he must have been very 
careless, and unobserving not to have avoided the accident, 
remarked Lady Vivian, piqued with a nervous sensation. 

The driver? M. Clevelande stood silent for a time. It 
was the chariot of Theron and Theron was the driver. 

Theron’s chariot, broke in both ladies. 

It was. Theron had just climbed in his chariot, his horses 
were restless for they had been standing. And I do not 
know, some rumored that Theron urged his horses on as this 
girl attempted to speak with him. 

Theron! And a cruel light come into the eyes of Lady 
Vivian as she continued. 

M. Clevelande who was this girl? 

The girl mother was Rubyat, answered he with down cast 
eyes. 

Rubyat! exclaimed all at the same time. Then a dreadful 
silence fell upon them all as they stood circled around the 
babe as it lay upon the divan. 

Vivian, the chariots were in line to drive into the lanes. 
Theron had taken his reins from his driver. Rubyat forced 
her way through this crowd to speak with Theron. This was 
an immensely packed crowd of people, for the races were 
soon to begin. 

Her same childish manner, the impulsive child, ventured 
Lady Vivian. 

Then, he continued. Rubyat held the tiny bundle up be- 
fore Theron and upon this moment it was. He lashed his 
horses and they dashed forward with a vicious plunge. They 
swerved back and forth, until Theron seemed to loose his 
control of them, and they dashed madly on into the lanes. 
The horses had stamped the girl beneath their feet and the 
chariot passed over her body. 

Theron dashed on, seemingly unmindful of the horrible 
mangled body of the girl as it lay upon the roadway. Then, 

I gathered up the babe, which had been torn from its 
mother’s arms. 

The ladies listened. They bent over the babe and they 
fondled it tenderly. 

M. Clevelande turned away as Lady Vivian lifted the 


184 


A Princess of the Orient 


babe in her arms and very pathetic were her words, which 
fell upon their ears. As Lady Catherine and he turned aside. 
In the world there is a heart beating 
Somewhere jor this babe on the homeward way 
A little mother feign to have a happy meeting 
In home sweet home: one little lamb cast astray! 

Burning tears fell upon the cheeks of Lady Vivian and 
upon this innocent little face. And Lady Catherine wept 
while M. Clevelande walked away. 

Sweet companion whatever shall we do with the babe 
asked Lady Catherine. 

I shall take it with me. I must provide a home for it. 
Perhaps in one of the homes. 

Foolish Vivian. Thou art mad. What, dost thou believe 
the babe’s father will so willingly release it? 

Whereupon Lady Vivian turned and looked seriously. 

Catherine, the father of this babe will never release it. 
Nay. He has done more. He has already denied it. 

Vivian what were thy words? Dost thou believe, stam- 
mered Lady Catherine, that Theron is the father of this in- 
fant. 

I do believe it, and I am certain. No man in Cairo is 
more capable than he. 

Theron? ventured Lady Catherine. 

Catherine stupid! What man in Cairo but Theron? 

She bent long in a tenderness over the babe. 

Ah! Catherine. An innocent babe on its bed of roses 
now. Tomorrow a woman may be hurt by its thorns of sor- 
row! 

Vivian I prythee listen to my words. Thy great and gen- 
erous heart doth speak too blindly now in thy new sympathy. 
Think. It will be an injustice to the babe to now place it in 
the settlement home. I would rather advise thee. Together 
let us seek its father. 

Catherine hast thou lost all thy senses? Thinkst thou 
that Theron would so desire to be burdened with it? And 
then she listened again to the cooing of the babe. Ah! As 
a flower blooming in its freshness! 

Catherine I shall send Thantiere with the babe into the 
chapel settlement. I deem it the best for we are in a re- 
sponsible position. 

And not a splendid position, responded Lady Catherine. 
Then she turned and called the slave woman. 

Thantiere, come thou here. Whereupon the black slave 


A Princess of the Orient 


185 


woman approached and stood before Lady Vivian, with her 
large rolling eyes fastened upon the infant. 

Thantiere, my good woman. This tiny babe. Bear it care- 
fully into the chapel settlement. Say unto the woman in 
charge that Lady Vivian has directed thee. And that Lady 
Vivian will come presently. And Thantiere, guard this pre- 
cious babe with careful hands. 

Your ladyship I will guard the babe with my life, replied 
the slave woman. 

Lady Vivian and Lady Catherine wrapped the babe snug- 
ly and placed it in the arms of the slave woman. And she 
departed from the Sculptor chapel bent on this kind mission 
of mercy. 

Sweet companion come with me into my studio den. I 
have but a few strokes to complete my other model. I am 
most anxious to finish it now. 

And the ladies went in a gloomy silence. They sat in 
nearly a sorrow. 

Soon Lady Catherine put touches here and there, she fin- 
ished the last touch of the faun. 

Then she turned with a keen pride. 

The faun is finished! 

And very beautifully sculptured, Catherine dear. 

Now, Vivian I am free. Come were we not to attend the 
races. 

We may attend the races as well as any thing dear, an- 
swered Lady Vivian languidly, whose usual enthusiasm in 
chariot races was very listless. 

Vivian I fear Mordane will be unable to return into Cairo 
for another fortnight. 

What a calamity, in truth dear. But in all seriousness is 
not Mordane long upon that small freize? 

So it seems to me Vivian. Could anything have happened 
to him? 

Just at this moment they reached the race course and 
they were amazed at the throng of people gathered there to 
witness these races. They were escorted to their lodges 
which were directly in front of the course. 

Scarcely had they been seated when a low conversation 
just behind them caused them to listen eagerly. 

Yea, my friend! Every prolonged stroke of this man’s 
chisel is but a stroke carving the goodly fortune of thy-self. 
Ha! Ha! and Mordane all unsuspecting. 

What a dupe! 


186 


A Princess of the Orient 


An infernal dupe answered the other gentleman. 

Upon hearing these words Lady Vivian looked behind her 
and squarely into the face of M. Clevelande and one of his 
courtiers. And suddenly upon seeing these ladies directly in 
front of them, they quit their conversation. 

And the words made a sudden hold of the situation be- 
sieging her mind. 

Every prolonged stoke of this man’s chisel is but a stroke 
carving thy own goodly fortune! 

So that is thy scheme, M. Clevelande, thought Lady Vi- 
vian. 

Evidently Lady Catherine had not caught the drift of 
this conversation. For she was viewing the course with her 
glasses. Neither had she seen these two gentlemen who were 
seated behind her. One of which was M. Clevelande. 

But Lady Vivian was bitter, then a happy thought came 
to her. She would spoil their scheme. Then her attention 
was given to the race course. 

The music ceased and the bell was sounded. Then the 
race begun. 

Surely. Theron was driving a handsome chariot drawn by 
jet black horses. 

As he passed the Amphitheatre his colours purple and 
white were streaming from his chariot. . 

One Grecian Knight was driving the other chariot. His 
were white horses. 

Both drivers had splendid horses and neither driver lashed 
his horses. And the race was begun, and it continued. They 
went on, on. The blacks passing the whites. The whites 
passing the blacks. The laps became interesting. The 
whites were in the lead and the people stood in their seats. 
They cheered. Then the blacks swerved past the whites 
coming beautifully to the front. 

It was the last lap, the cheers were maddening. At this 
lap the anxious moment; the blacks rushed forward even 
more than before. 

Theron had won. The splendid black horses, the blazing 
chariot with Theron the driver made a picture of mockery to 
the ladies as they sat in their lodges. For their hearts were 
heavy with the cry of the infant orphaned babe. 

The blacks were decorated with ribbons. And Theron 
wore the laurel wreathe upon his uncovered head. 

Now Lady Vivian with Lady Catherine left their lodges 
in a hasty retreat. 


A Princess of the Orient 


187 


I am grieved that he won the race, spake Lady Catherine. 

It is a sad pity responded Lady Vivian. Theron seems to 
surpass in every event, Catherine. I marvel at his successes. 

But. The greatest defeat is well upon him, Vivian. 

And what defeat dear? 

The election. He cannot succeed in this election. 

Be not so certain Catherine. I do fear hidden strokes. 

Alack 1 I am certain Theron will be defeated. For the 
King’s voice has been raised against him. And once he is 
defeated in such an event, he stands a ruined man in Cairo. 

I do know he is the most dangerous man in Cairo, Cath- 
erine. He has ruined the lives of many people. And. Now 
this day what worse could he have done? Than the murder 
of Rubyat. 

To be certain a dismal misfortune. Theron makes a bold 
picture of victory wearing his laurels, and within wearing the 
stain of the murder of pretty Rubyat. But there surely will 
be a full measure meted to him. 

He may wear his laurels all too soonl 
CHAPTER XXX. 

The Shepherd and The Lost Thorn. 

There is a charm of human thought found in noble charity! 

Many, many weeks had passed since Lady Vivian found 
the aged man wounded in the public park. By a stray bullet 
from the coffee shop and all this time the wounded man had 
been nursed under the special direction of Lady Vivian. 

Being a neglected man of many years he did not gain 
strenght sufficiently. 

Neither did he grow weaker until the last week. When he 
contracted a slow form of fever and this overcome his 
strenght and he lay distractedly ill. Ill unto death it was 
feared by his physicians. 

Upon this afternoon he turned his head upon his pillow, 
as he heard footsteps in his chamber, and very near to his 
bed couch. 

Good morning, father! How is it with thee? It is such a 
gloriously bright day. I am certain thou art feeling stronger. 

Lady Vivian walked to his bed couch. She bent over his 
wasted form. He smiled faintly as his eyes fell upon her 
radiant face beaming with freshness. 

Tis thee Lady Vivian! I might have known it. Who else 
ever cares to come here, to sit with me? None Lady Vi- 
vian but thee. Thou art a noble woman. Thou art most 
charitable. May thy gods always be good and kind to thee. 


188 


A Princess of the Orient 


I thank thee father, for this petition. But thou art 
stronger? I see it in thy face. The sick man turned impa- 
tiently. 

Father truly, thou wilt not wax impatient now? After all 
the most brave days of thy suffering? They are gone now. 
There are many inquiries of thee father. Too. Many would 
come to visit thee but upon the advice of thy physician I 
have requested them not to come. They may come later 
when thou art stronger. 

Spoken only out of the kindness of thy good heart. Lady 
Vivian. I have neither kin nor comrade. Either in Egypt or 
elsewhere. Therefore there can be none who wishes to visit 
me. 

There, there father! I have something valuable, some- 
thing for thee. And she opened a small cask of copper plate 
of Lipad. Me thinks I have found a quicke remedy for thee. 

LipM! Lipad! The sick man then fell back upon his pil- 
low when slowly he lifted his head. There was a searching 
light in his eyes. 

Then, I have the fever? 

Yea father but it is only in a mild form and I quite read- 
ily found this wormwood. We do wish the fever to develope 
little more not to develope more. It is easier to prevent than 
to cure, responded Lady Vivian sweetly. 

Then, once again ! It is providence. It is providence once 
more that has bourne thee to me. And the suffering man 
turned in his anguish. Why didst thou come again to save 
my life? Oh! Why didst thou come? 

She quietly watched him, and he was very wretched. Af- 
ter a few moments had passed she bent more closely over him 
and she saw he had sunken into a light stupor. 

Lady Vivian stepped softly to the window. The sweet 
mercy for a life caused her to see this suffering man restored 
to good health, in her earnest thoughts. A vital force pushed 
forward in her efforts. For instantaneously she thought of 
the Sacred Thorn. Had it not healed the Princess of the 
otherwise fatal poisoning? 

She decided to go at once to Canterre and noiselessly she 
left the chamber. Going directly to seek Canterre. Once 
into the office chapel of Canterre. She was announced by 
a Scribe, and Canterre came at once. 

Vivian I greet thee! I am happy, most happy to see thee 
again. But. Thou art distressed, my dear what is it? 


A Princess of the Orient 


189 


Canterre thy goodly pardon! I come perhaps on a most 
worthy mission. An urgent need. 

And I am most happy to offer myself in any service if by 
such a service I may relieve thee, Vivian. 

Thou may be able to relieve me Canterre. I come to seek 
aid for the sick Jew. 

The aged man whom thou rescued in the public park? 

The same. And he doth lie ill unto death with the fever. 
The physician gives no hope. So I come for the Lost Thorn. 

Canterre started but attempted to conceal his amazement. 

The Lost Thorn? Yea. My dear thou shall have it. But 
will he accept of it? He is of the Jews. 

What significance? His religion is his divine right. And 
at this critical hour his life is of value. 

He denies our Christ, my dear. And in this he can have 
no faith in this Thorn, worn by my Saviour. It coming from 
the Christian’s Saviour’s crown of Thorns means nothing 
to him. 

But Canterre. He is now semi-conscious. Since a human 
life depends and. Perchance, much in this life, who can be 
the judge? 

Volontiers! I proudly give thee the Thorn a life to save. 
Much there remains within the life of every human being. 
For life indeed is a precious gift of God. 

I thank thee graciously, Canterre. Thou art of a kindly 
heart and of a most noble mind. 

Vivian before I permit thee to go. And he gently placed 
his arm about her. 

What is it, Canterre asked Lady Vivian demurely. 

Dearest, thy promise not to credit the tales which Theron 
has been hurling broadcast. The tales concerning and in- 
volving the Princess and myself. 

My promise Canterre. For these same gossip mongers are 
speaking one to the other. 

Lady Vivian is in preparation to wed the Prince Governor 
Theron. 

“Vivian”! He clasped her fondly. And with a quicke 
nmtion she disengaged herself from his embrace. 

I must go Canterre and at once. The man doth lie ill 
unto his death and every moment brings him nearer to his 
death. 

Whereupon Canterre instantly released her. He entered 
into a small chapel joining his office chapel and very shortly 
he returned carrying the Sacred Thorn. 


190 


A Princess of the Orient 


It was sealed in an ivory chest. 

Vivian, the Sacred Thorn! I gladly give it to thee. It is 
in thy trust. 

I thank thee, Canterre. I shall guard it with a care. 

Ah! God speed the time when this aged man will be 
healed. God speed the time when thou dost come again to 
me. 

And he kissed her hand. He opened his arms for her, but 
she had slipped away. 

Without another word Lady Vivian bearing the ivory chest 
left the chapel of Canterre. 

She approached the sick chamber and she heard voices 
within. Cautiously she opened the door. 

Two men were standing with their backs towards the sick 
man. They were in serious words. She knew not whether 
to enter at once. When she heard the name of the Persian 
Shah spoken then she slipped in and sat upon the bed-couch 
of the sick man. 

The sick man stirred but the men believing him to be 
nervous from the fever, they did not even as much as glance 
in her direction. 

She could distinguish these gentlemen plainly. They were 
Theron and M. Clevelande. 

Then breathlessly she listened. 

M. Clevelande I heralded the Persia Shah that his daugh- 
ter was safely quartered in Cairo. That all his efforts to 
locate her would prove fruitless. Likewise. I made it 
known to him that the Princess was grieving herself into a 
sickness. But for no cause would I consent to her leaving 
the Egyptian borders until he agreed. Rather. Until he 
signed the commercial contract for the silken industries. 

Upon me faith Theron that will serve thee naught. It will 
be a most easy thing for the Shah to sign this contract. He 
could then negotiate with the free exports committee at his 
will and desire. Every committee consents when a goodly 
reason is offered them, eh Theron? And I trowth a righteous 
cause will serve its pleasure. 

Not so easy M. Clevelande. The Shah is a hard parent. 
A most unnatural parent. He answers in these terms. 
And Theron read the Shah’s herald. 

To the Prince Governor M. Theron of Cairo, Egypt. 

Thy heralder announces the herald from the Prince 

Governor M. Theron of Cairo. May I hereby convey 

my answer- In as much that I have been apprised of 


A Princess of the Orient 


191 


knowledge of the safe keeping of my daughter. The 
Princess Roxana. That the Princess remains in goodly 
comforts, in peace of mind. 

I hereby do refuse to be forced into such a com- 
promise — that of signing against my own country. It 
would be but a mean treaty, since the Princess is bal- 
anced with commercial values. 

Signed. 

The Shah of Persia. 

Of the Royal House of Persia- 
Ye gods! What an answer! Doth the Shah play with 
thy herald or hath he been in communication with the Prin- 
cess, herself? 

That I do not know. His attitude however stands for our 
defeat. His will is like iron and his mind remains unbent. 
By the gods, there must be a way. 

Alack ! I fear that naught can move him, Theron. 

Not so fast, friend. Once the Princess is safely locked 
within the Convent of the Christians in a disguise. Locked 
away from the outside world. What think ye of the Shah 
then? 

The Princess hidden within the Convent of the Christians! 
What absurd notions, Theron. 

Not so, for the Princess doth wish very much to be entered 
into this convent. Once within the shadow of those mon- 
strous Convent walls, then it can be easily managed. 

Upon me faith Theron, I can see no advantage in such a 
move. Doth it matter whether the Princess remains within 
her apartments in Cairo or whether she is hidden within this 
convent? 

Ah! but friend. The Christian Convent is sorely pressed 
for funds. And well. Thou, can readily understand. All 
is fair to win a hard close battle. The Mother Superior will 
permit no communication between the Princess and the outer 
world. And the Persian Shah when he can hear no word of 
his daughter? It is easy. The game is finished. We have 
this powerful Ruler of Persia by the stringes of his own 
heart. 

But will he compromise his given word even for his 
heart’s desire, Theron? 

Is then the ruler of Persia vastly different from any of 
us? A heart’s throb has made many nations. Likewise a 
heart’s throb has lost many a country’s cause. There are 


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gods of highest station weak as the merest reed, bending for 
a woman’s pair of eyes, laughed Theron. 

Always a woman, Theron, and he laughed mockingly. 

And true! All true noblemen are warmed by some fair 
vesper fire. Forbear. The platonic fools! And unto the 
Shah, it may be a parent’s heart desire. Me thinks, I love 
them all, my jolly friend. I love my loves in a merry way. 

And the light laughter from Theron jarred even M. 
Clevelande. 

Thou art to free with thy heart’s love, and thy heart loves 
Theron. 

Ah! Come friend and comrade. Thy wisdom comes from 
a bruised heart. 

M. Clevelande cooly interrupted Theron ’s light phrases. 

We were discussing the Persian Shah, Theron. 

Surely we were. And as I was saying, answered Theron as 
he glanced at M. Clevelande pallid face. The Shah can be 
reached through this channel, I know it. But if not thereby. 
We are lost. 

But what of the Princess entering this Convent? It seems 
impossible. 

Why? Now thou may choke thy laughter, friend. I am 
in a position to be acquainted with the desires of the Prin- 
cess. And this is one of her cherished desires. I shall gal- 
lantly assist her. 

In a slight lull of this conversation. Lady Vivian stole 
quietly out of the sick chamber. 

What a scheme Theron was party to. He had dared to 
operate this upon the Shah. Alas! Theron with his foul 
schemes would dare anything. And too. There were times 
when he would vomit all wickedness. 

Then, Lady Vivian felt a keen sympathy for this double 
natured man. 

At the same time she felt that much could be feared of 
him. 

These two men continued after a dull silence. 

Upon me faith, friend. That arrest upon the day of the 
chase, it was a most damnable affair. Yet, the court has dis- 
missed the case and that quite readily, too. 

But how was it all come about Theron? 

The black slave. I proved him a spy for some one per- 
son working the opening of this commercial affair with 
foreign countries. Perchance. One of the silken manufac- 
tories of Egypt hoped to contain its own productions. 


A Princess of the Orient 


193 


I am advised there is a plan among the silken manufac- 
turers to this effect. 

Is it wise though? this plan of the manufacturers? 

Well, I cannot see the wisdom of such a step, myself. At 
any rate, the efforts of the enemy to disable me was lost. 

A good point in thy goodly name in the coming election, 
Theron. 

So it was. 

Then Theron paced backward and to the window again. 
He was becoming much disturbed with a dark train of 
thoughts. 

Oh, M. Clevelande, it was a terrible disaster. That dis- 
astrous accident! 

And his eyes were much blurred. 

The accident? queried M. Clevelande. 

Rubyat, responded Theron and he knit his brow. 

The poor child! Yea it was a tragic death for a girl re- 
sponded he. 

Her damned impulsive nature. That she should attempt 
to climb into the chariot with me, and upon such an occasion. 
In such a place. 

There is not another person in Cairo would ever have at- 
tempted to do such a thing but Rubyat. 

Poor girl! A pretty girl she was. A girl of love and in- 
sane impulses. 

I ween, the bird songs babbling from the trees were never 
so sweet, as her pretty laughters. Her saucy lips were only 
silenced with thy kisses, eh Theron? And Rubies were less 
red than her two lips of cheeries. Honey less sweet than 
the nectar from those lips. A nymph beauty clothed in 
Love’s breathe was she. How this girl did love thee, Theron. 
Lucky chap thou were! I oft have seen her chubby face 
brighten into a smile at one word from thee. Her song the 
whole day long was. I love, I love thee, my love! 

For God’s Sake! Cease! Canst thou have no compas- 
sion upon a guilty coward. Such as I am. I can bear it no 
longer. Never. Never dost thou mention the girl’s name in 
my presence again. Never! 

My dear comrade, thou art the one who spake firstly of 
the girl. 

So it is true. My good friend, thy pardon! I spoke out 
of a troubled soul. 

Then M. Clevelande lay his hand upon the shoulder of 
Theron and he gently pressed it. 


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A Princess of the Orient 


I am sorry for thy sorrow, Theron. 

My friend, the babe, continued Theron. The babel Ye 
gods, I shall go mad. I tell thee I shall go mad; and raving 
thus, in this distorted phrase he rubbed his fingers through 
his hair. His eyes bulged in a wild stare. And he muttered 
like a mad man. ‘Sin hath its pain’ I 

Great volumes of sympathy filled the heart of M. Cleve- 
lande for Theron. 

He placed his hand again upon his shoulder. 

Theron, no stain rests upon thee. Accidents befall us all, 
alike. Come, let us go back to the green square. The 
Arabian Chief tians are giving an exhibition with their danc- 
ing horses. Their dances always are interesting. Let us go 
and at once. I shall go mad if I do not go somewhere. 

And these two gentlemen left the sick chamber. 

It was but a short time when Lady Vivian returned again 
into the sick chamber. 

Father, thou hast been sleeping long, and the sleep has 
restored thee for thy eyes are brighter. 

My dear child, I have slept and I do feel refreshed but I 
have a fearful headache. 

Ah! but I have a remedy for thy aching head, father. 
That pains comes with the fever. And she drew the Sacred 
Thorn from the ivory chest which she carried under her 
cloak. 

What is this remedy. Lady Vivian? Some petrified wood? 
Smiled the old man. 

Perhaps so. I will bind it upon thy forehead. And she 
leaning over the man noted the pleased glance. She bound 
the Thorn securely upon his burning head. And she re- 
clined herself by his side upon his bed couch. 

She listened to his disconnected phrases and watched his 
wild gestures. 

Then slowly he fell back into his stupified slumbers. And 
he breathed like a man troubled. 

She remained very quiet by his side so as not to awaken 
him. And the silvery silence in the watch fell heavy upon 
Lady Vivian for she hoped. She feared. 

Lo! The white mystery of death might be lingering near! 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

The Shepherd in Irons. 

Lady Vivian was still sitting by the side of the sick man 
when loud, noisy steps aroused her. She turned and there 
stood Theron, with him two attendants. 


A Princess of the Orient 


195 


Lady Greetings! Thou here? And Theron was surprised. 

Good day, and greetings, Theron. Is there any goodly 
reason why I should not be here? Queried she. 

But ‘this man is ill with the plague. 

She quickly placed her finger upon her lips, as a warning. 

Not so loud Theron. Have mercy! 

Theron laughed hoarsely. What matters if he doth hear. 
The man cannot live. His life is nearly spent, at its best. 

Theron, cruelly spoken. Is there no humanly heart alive 
within thy breast. 

She glanced at the attendants and Theron followed her 
questioning glance. 

The attendants? asked she. 

They come but to remove the sick man into the cell within 
the outer cell, answered Theron. 

Theron! Thou would dare to order this sick man moved 
into that isolated iron cell? 

My dear, I prythee do not be foolish. The man is strickr 
en with the fever in the most violent form. 

And is he not isolated here, asked she. 

Not quite isolated, my dear. There is danger here. 

There are many human hearts still beating in our honour- 
able and honest gentlemen in Cairo. And for this I am 
thankful! remarked Lady Vivian. 

A pretty compliment from Lady Vivian and well spoken, 
my dear. But the patient is to be removed by order of the 
Court. He shall receive every care in this cell, have no fear of 
it. 

Now Vivian, thy own judgement tells thee, it is not wise 
to permit this case of fever here within the chapel, open to the 
public. Subjecting anyone. Everyone to this dreadful mal- 
ady. It must not be spread over the whole of Cairo, because 
of this one case. 

He winced under her contemptuous glance, although she 
accepted the wisdom of it. 

Then proceed and attend to it, Theron. The man is ill 
and suffering. I go to make ready his bed couch. 

She gently leaned over the sick man and removed the Sa- 
cred Thorn from his head. Placing it within the ivory chest, 
she tightly held the chest under her arm, and she left the 
chamber. 

The sick man did not stir and Theron stood looking after 
Lady Vivian. 


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Then he glanced up and beheld the faces of the two at- 
tendants wreathed in mocking smiles. He flushed with anger. 

Cease thy laughter! Didst thou behold anything curious 
in the affection of the King’s daughter to the homeless old 
man? Methinks, Lady Vivian is justly right. The old man 
has been chilled by the world’s neglect. Come here. Mark 
ye, bear thou this suffering man into the isolated chapel. 
And with greatest care. 

The two attendants in silent obedience stepped forward. 
They wrapped the man in folds of the linen. Carefully, so 
carefully they lifted him and they bore him away into the 
much discussed isolated chapel. 

After they had left the sick chamber. Theron stood in 
thought for he was alone in the chapel where the sick man 
had been. He lowered his eyes upon the floor. 

A bit of papyrus folded in a square caught his eye and he 
gathered it up. He unfolded it. No. 586. Entitled Act of 
Jew. It read. “No Jew will be permitted to sit in the con- 
sistory of Cairo.” 

Theron read it and he re-read it. What of this? 

This Jew had been too ill for weeks to have been able to 
secure this script copy. And it was of a past date. It was 
wholly incomprehensible. The Egyptian law that which had 
so ruled against the Jew had been set aside.’ 

And now the Jew doth sit in the consistory of Cairo. 

Who could have copied this act? Who could have carried 
this script to his bed couch? Has the Jew then an accom- 
plice? 

Me thinks a heated revenge doth still burn within the Jew 
and against the Egyptian. There may still be a danger from 
the Jew. 

Theron tore the papyrus into pieces. He hurled the pieces 
out of the window and then. He went immediately nearer 
to the sick man. The man wrapped snugly was sleeping in 
a stupor. 

The attendants stood without the door. And Lady Vi- 
vian came. She opened this door and stepped up to the couch. 

Theron clasped her hand but she tore it from him. 

Vivian thou art so impatient with me. Surely. My Sweet 
Vivian thou dost play hard and fast to forget me. Rather. 
Our friendship. I can not accept thy words spoken to me, 
that thou canst not love me, now. He added with a smile. I 
dare not bide my heart to forget thee. 

Love? Pardon me Theron. I knew not this precious gift 


A Princess of the Orient 


197 


of love when I knew thee best. When our friendship was 
closest. And as for thee Theron. Thy passions alone hast 
thou named love. For real love serves, purifies. And real 
love enobles, exalts one to the highest the best in life. 

My sweet Vivian, truly the treble of Heaven’s harmony, 
the richest gift of the gods is. Love. 

And I prythee Theron. Do not speak of love to me again. 
How many times I have asked this of thee. Dost thou not 
know that tainted thoughts run not to pure love? 

My charming Sweetheart, dost thou believe I will so will- 
ingly surrender to a foreign lover, my sweet love? 

Then with a wicked gleam in his eyes, he stepped towards 
her. He held her fast in his arms, covering her face with 
kisses. 

She confronted him angrily. 

I prythee be gone! Otherwise I shall be obliged to leave 
this chamber. 

My sweetheart I would not disturb thy charitable duties. 
I shall go myself. But remember Vivian. The victory of 
Canterre is not yet a floating banner. Neither is it hurling 
its colours. 

With these words he left Lady Vivian. Then she seated 
herself upon the couch. One hour longer must the Lost 
Thorn be binded upon the sick man’s head, however she be- 
gan her watch. She glanced round the chamber. She could 
see nothing from out; the only opening was a long narrow 
window and this window was ironed closely. 

She fell to meditating, out of which was bourne mental 
pictures. 

The cooing of a tiny babe with its innocent stare of its 
baby blue eyes. Following the fresh pretty face of Rubyat 
with her laughing eyes! With soft tangled curls. Rubyat 
the favorite peasant girl of the lichen stone and moss eaved 
cottage near the palm groves. 

Rubyat! And Lady Vivian called the name softly as if 
she expected the same quick response from the ghost of the 
girl. 

The same she had always known of her while she lived. 

Then she recalled the gilted lines of the reaper named 
Death. And the lines burned her heart and chilled her blood. 
Great Michelangelo, with age grown bleak, ^ 

And uttermost labours, having once o'er said 
All grievous memories on his lonely life shed 
This worst regret to one true heart could speak. 


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A Princess of the Orient 


That when with sorrowing love and reverence meek. 

He stooped o’er sweet Colonna’s dying bed 
His muse and dominant Lady, spirit — wed , — 

Her hand he Kissed, but not her brow or cheek„ 

O Buonarruoti, — good at Art’s fire — wheels 
To urge her chariot — Even thus the Soul 
Touching at lenght some sorely — chastened goal, 

Earns oftenest but a little; her appeals 
Were deep and mute, — lowly her claim. Let be! 

What hold for her Death’s garner? And for Thee 
Michelangelo’s Kiss — 

Dante Gabriel Rossetti 
CHAPTER XXXII. 

A Festival of Lanterns. 

The real destiny of the ballon was not questioned by the 
spectators in Cairo. 

As this painted ballon with its vivid colourings started 
afloat in mid-air, cheers echoed upon its natural coarse. The 
reed basket that which hung upon it was filled with a num- 
ber of birds. The Honey Guide. 

The Honey Guide was selected for the purpose of guiding 
this ballon into far fields, into the country. To insure suc- 
cess and rich fruitage for Egypt. This custom was taken 
from an ancient legend that these rare birds called the Honey 
Guide would always lead to the honey nests. This in turn 
meant a true guidance to the full fruitage of Egyptian in- 
dustries. It meant success in all its municipal affairs. 

In a literal sense. This sparkish ballon showed brilliant. 
With its bright paintings and with the reed cage in which 
the small dull plummed birds swung back and forth. Slowly 
it ascended higher, higher. Until it become invisible among 
the seemingly fleecy spots of clouds which floated lazily far 
into the skies. 

The tradition of the Egyptian people was that the Harpies 
carried it away upon its mission. 

The public garden was filled with throngs of moving 
people. Buxom and free. 

Men drove their own chariots in the roadways at this 
gathering. Some pulled carts. Some rode donkeys. Every 
person could be seen within the park decked with bells. With 
garlands of field flowers. These garlands of field flowers 
showed some bay leaves. 

Lingering youths carrying their lyres talked more than 
sung their merry verses. 


A Princess of the Orient 


199 


Pipes and the flat drums met. They rebounded throughout 
the entire garden. 

Maidens wearing silken shawls. Gorgeously coloured 
shawls and they carried goat skin bottles. Small neat were 
these bottles and they were filled with wine. These maidens 
moved lithely in and through the people. They sold their 
must foamed, their wine to the people. 

By the soft light of these hundreds of lanterns the people 
jostled. Lanterns swung in their odd shapes. And these 
were lamps which had been filled with oil. 

These lamps were burning in obedient lights upon long 
poles. And hanging by wires. This festival of lanterns was 
always one large occasion for the frolicsome and gay celebra- 
tions in Eg5^t. Feats of every kind were given. 

Exhibition of drills. Speeches. Music and dancing. In all 
a festival of merry makers. 

In a group of the Royal guests. Lady Vivian and Lady 
Catherine were standing, together. A group of young girls 
wearing garlands of roses. Showered Lady Vivian with 
roses and rose buds, as they joyously tripped passed her. 

A shower of short stemmed roses was heaped upon these 
two ladies and they responded to this playful greeting of 
the maidens, so fair, so free! 

The gracious smile faded upon the face of Lady Vivian 
as she saw Theron approaching her. 

Catherine, Theron ! He makes his way here. Let us turn 
and go. I am coming to despise Theron. 

But sweet Companion, it is too late to turn away. He is 
here. 

And the ladies were facing him. Lady Catherine greeted 
him and turned her head in pretense of watching an expedi- 
tion drill. Lady Vivian could but meet him as the occasion 
demanded of her. 

My dear Vivian, I am really charmed to-night to be with 
thee again. Thou art as lovely as, nay, thy beauty sur- 
pass’th thy former self. And to-night, thou art a lovely 
dream. 

Theron, I bid thee happy greetings, responded she. 

He kissed her extended hand, speaking laughingly for 
the situation pleased him. 

Upon my word dearest, the colour-green doth well become 
thee. Thou beautiful one. Thou canst rival even the nymphs 
of the Nile. 

I prythee, there remains other more worthy charms here 


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A Princess of the Orient 


to-night; Theron. The mystic glow of the lamps and the 
lanterns, doth it not settle upon every place with a golden 
thrill? 

But. There is a mightier glow that doth settle upon my 
heart to-night. 

And she interrupted him. 

Theron, I prythee, one fair question. Are we not to be 
friends? 

I do wish it above all else, Vivian. 

Then cease thy flattery compliments for I can not relish 
them with a goodly. Neither a kindly favour. 

I beg thy gracious pardon. In truth, Vivian why dost thou 
bear this stubborn will towards me, remarked he as a visibly 
pained look came over the face of Theron and with it a reso- 
lute glance. Then in turn a smile of conceit. 

Ah! But Vivian. It doth not seem fit. That I should beg 
a moment’s conversation with thee. 

I rather agree. It is not fit that the Prince Governor of 
Cairo should beg one moment of any lady. The pride of 
such a gentleman should play him better. 

Theron, then in quicke turn was gracious with an as- 
sumed interest. 

Vivian, how is it with thy charge, the sick Jew? 

It really doth please me Theron to know that after all. A 
real charity doth possess thee. Sorry I am’, that thou didst 
so proceed against this aged man. 

But, my deed was not a personal affair. I acted in full 
obedience to the ordinance. 

An ordinance? queried she with a smile. 

So it was my dear. And an ordinance methinks, by which 
the people of our city stands well protected from the out- 
spreading of this fatal plague. Do we as citizens desire this 
return of the plague? 

Ah! Theron thou art a far sighted man of noble inclina- 
tions. And she laughed heartily. 

His face was dark with rage as she continued in a sar- 
casim. 

And varily do I know thy honourable methods. That thou 
wouldst seek to crush a zickzack and turn away from the 
reptile, lest thy hand should spear the reptile. 

Pretty! Pretty indeed art these compliments falling from 
such sweet lips. I prythee dost thou speak of thy own mind’ 
Rather dost thou borrow the well bourne sentiments of thy 
lover? The Man of the Hour! Canterre the Great! 


A Princess of the Orient 


201 


And he bowed low with a cunning smile. 

I prythee Vivian, dost thou really indeed hold such faith 
in the great man’s platform? Rather. Dost thou number 
one of the love-lorn court beauties who have given their 
hearts to this gallant knight of the french colony? 

She drew herself up to her utmost height and scorned him. 

Thy insolence Theron ! Thy conduct becomes unbearable 
and now I prythee, have the good sense of a noble courtier. 
Shall I move into the far niche of the garden? To avoid 
thy undesirable society? 

Nay! I would not so disturb thee, my dear. I shall go 
myself. In going I leave the lovely darling of the gods in 
her watches. 

Lady Vivian turned squarely around and stood. When 
she turned back he had left her side. 

Then. So soft a voice was speaking to her. That she did 
not hear Princess Roxana as she approached her. 

The noise of the festival had drowned the voice of the 
Princess. The Princess touched her arm. 

Princess Roxana! I am rejoiced that thou came to-night. 
I am most happy to be with thee. 

I thank thee Lady Vivian. It doth please me much to be 
one of the merry makers here at the festival; for it is good 
to see so many smiling faces. 

Thou art in goodly health Princess? 

I thank thee. I am in beautiful health and mind to-night. 

Truly, the garden is it not pretty. Princess Roxana? 

It doth bear the bower of the silvery touches of the 
fairies. I think it one beauteous picture, l Not alone silvered 
but gilded with charmings sights. 

And the ladies in admiration of this lighted garden found 
themselves intoxicated with its beauties. The lights. The 
music. The laughters of the merriest. 

Looking from one side then to the other, they sought a 
rustic bench which had been builded against a majestic syca- 
more tree, near a pool in this garden. 

The golden hue of the Princess’s robe splendidly harmon- 
ized with the green robe of Lady Vivian and they made a 
picture, as they reclined themselves against the silvered 
sycamore tree. 

Princess thou hast absented thyself too much of late. We 
have missed thee. ’Twas yestern-morn at the Bath. I 
eagerly sought thee. Both Lady Catherine and myself. The 
morning was a pleasant treat. 


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A Princess of the Orient 


That is very sweet, Lady Vivian and it doth glad my heart 
to know that I was really missed. And I have always found 
the Bath a pleasant place. 

Princess thou art truly striving, suddenly, to hide away 
from all thy friends. 

Ah! I have learned this much. And thy friends, they 
want thee very much. 

Friends? My good Lady Vivian would I did possess 
friends in Cairo. 

Princess Roxana, exclaimed Lady Vivian. 

All too true. The acquaintances I have cultivated in 
Cairo. Ah! They are but fixtures of the places wherein I 
met them. I tear them out of my memory, for I quit their 
abiding places. 

Princess, Thou art in some new sorrow? Asked Lady Vi- 
vian. 

Perhaps yea. Perhaps nay. At any cost, forever and for- 
ever. These acquaintances are gone. Gone. Out of my 
life. I do not wish to recall them. So speaking she passed 
her hands before her eyes. 

Princess, art thou suddenly seized with a madness? 

Mad? And thereupon the Princess laughed. Methinks I 
am mad. Nay. I will not say as much. There was a time 
when I was mad. It was then. When I became acquainted 
with thy fair city. Bohemian Cairo! Methinks a madness 
must have filled my whirling brain. I was intoxicated. I 
tell thee Lady Vivian I was drunk with the gay allurements 
of all that was violent and wicked in Cairo. Pleasure reached 
out her hand to me upon my every turn. It come to this. 
That extravagant play could only tempt me. And I found 
myself, the Persian Princess sunk into. Ye gods! What not? 

She faltered, like one blinded then she continued with 
agitated phrases. 

Lady Vivian, upon my faith. It is most easy to trip into 
the pit of wicked pleasures. And the unsuspecting is at all 
times, the greatest pleasure seeker. Innocence and ignor- 
ance. These most duped comrades. They are found lead- 
ing in the young life of every girl. And she faltered again. 

But Princess thou art very restless. Come. Let us join 
Lady Catherine. There. Thou will soon forget thy dis- 
turbed thoughts. 

Really thou art very kind and indulgent, Lady Vivian. In 
as much as thou dost mistake. I am not restless. I am, now 
strong in content. I have met with a conviction true. So 


A Princess of the Orient 


203 


deep. I have never in my life before this time been akin to 
reverent mind. How well thou too, canst recall it all. Al- 
ways free. Passionately fond of every frivolity in life. I 
dwelt within the dangerous temple called. Self. It is dif- 
ferent now. 

Ah! My Princess! and Lady Vivian tossed aside her head 
and laughed free. Then, thou too hast fallen? Caught in 
the snares of Cupid? 

Alack! Nay Lady Vivian. I can not find myself dangling 
in the links of Cupid’s chain. Neither a captive in his court 
of Love. Cupid by chance may have entered therein, but no 
longer dost he linger, responded the Princess as she put her 
hand upon her heart. 

Princess, the world. That is to say every person in this 
universe has been captured, likewise. It is a law of the gods! 

Far, far from my words and my meaning. Lady Vivian. I 
speak not of the foolish love that Cupid doth embellish the 
great temple of Self with. I speak of one greater love. 

That is impossible Princess. There can be none greater 
than the love of the heart for its companion, sighed Lady Vi- 
vian. And her lovely eyes gleamed with the love light of a 
loving companion. 

The Princess smiled sweetly. She placed her hand upon 
Lady Vivian’s arm. 

Thou speakst of carnal love. Whereas I speak of divine 
love. There comes a time in life when carnal love becomes 
all weaken and worn. For it is selfish. Divine love is a 
more dependable force. It remains an inspiring factor in 
life. This divine love is that love which the Christians have 
taught to the heathen people of the Orient. 

Princess Roxana, surely! Surely thou dost not identify 
thyself with these Christians? The Christians! Impossible 
Princess. And the Lady Vivian stood so aghast with horror 
that the Princess smiled. 

My dear Lady Vivian I have. Become a believer and a 
follower of this religion. Not by one day’s decision. Rather 
days and months have I studied their teachings. The happy 
day of my life was the one day when I accepted their teach- 
ing as my guide. And now. Another the happiest day of 
my once empty life will be upon the morrow. 

Upon the morrow? asked Lady Vivian in all curiosity. 

Upon the morrow I enter into the Convent of the Chris- 
tians, Lady Vivian. 

The Convent of the Christians? gasped Lady Vivian. 


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A Princess of the Orient 


How canst thou so forget the teachings of thy people? Think 
of thy father, the Shah. Have the memories of his great and 
strong life, his tender teaching gone out from thee? And for 
a strange people? I tell thee Princess, these people who call 
themselves, Christians. They are fanatics. They have forced 
their false teaching upon our people, here in Cairo. Their’s is 
but a Visionary. Come dear, I pry thee consider thy deed. 
And think. The gods who have been worshipped by thy 
own people for generations. The gods who have been rever- 
enced by thy kin, by thy noble father. Think Princess, thy 
mother passed on in this faith. Can these gods not serve 
thee as well? Canst thou do less than serve the same gods? 

Nay! Nay! Lady Vivian I forgive thy irony words. For 
thou dost not understand. 

The Princess did not finish for Canterre joined them at 
this moment. 

Fair ladies! Is it quite fair, thou shouldst hide away from 
every one? That thou secrete thyself away within this nook? 
The nook is charming. I trowth the ladies are like myself 
enticed by its charm, but is it quite fair? 

Indeed, thou art welcome Canterre. 

And Canterre kissed the hand of the two ladies. 

Canterre, the Princess was but telling me. Upon the mor- 
row she enters into the Convent of the Christians. 

He started with an abrupt movement and looked at Lady 
Vivian, then he turned to the Princess. 

The Convent of the Christians! he exclaimed. Am I to 
understand. Princess. That thou dost enter this Convent? 

And Lady Vivian was pained as she noted the glance of 
his eye. 

The warning words of Rubyat to save the Princess from 
the Convent, flashed now upon Canterre. 

Princess Roxana, I can not credit this statement. Surely 
thou dost mistake. I prythee consider this grave step. Se- 
clusion in a Convent! It will be a most unnatural life for 
thee. Likewise a dangerous one. There remains others in 
Cairo, Who can serve this part in the Convent. Me thinks 
we all need thee much in our city. And thou art not needed 
within this small world of the Convent. 

Canterre turned to Lady Vivian. 

Vivian my dear, surely thou canst dissuade the Princess. 
She must not take this step. And Canterre’s glance was firm. 

I thank thee, my good friend Canterre. In truth thou 
are of the worth. A friend, such as I am in need of. But. 


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205 


I have studied this step with greatest energy. With closest 
thought and my decision is made. 

Canterre thought quickly. 

Princess there is a rule governing this Convent. Since 
thou art of Persian faith, the Court of Cairo must sign their 
decree before thou canst be made a white Sister in the 
Christian Convent in Egyptian borders. 

So there is Canterre. And Theron has kindly aided me. 
With his assistance the court decreed my admission into the 
Convent. And my name has been entered in the register of 
the Convent, already. 

Theron! muttered Canterre between his closed teeth. An 
angry scowl upon his face made him not kindly to look upon. 

Then. Thou will enter in the Convent? Asked Can- 
terre in a constrained voice. 

I shall Canterre. With the most joyous conviction that 
which has ever come upon me, answered she with a glad 
ring in her voice. 

Gods! he exclaimed, as he clinched his hands together. 
Then, little Rubyat had spoken the truth. Theron was play- 
ing this game with the Princess. 

The blacken scoundrel, muttered Canterre. 

Now Lady Vivian was a keen observer of his every look, 
his movements. Her heart sunk in pain. Then she mastered 
her emotions and said. 

Princess may we not go to Lady Catherine? The last 
night thou art free. I prythee, join us. 

It gives me great pleasure. Lady Vivian; and she turned to 
Canterre. 

Canterre we shall be pleased and most happy for thee to 
join us. 

And the party of three approached the rustic lodge, that 
of the King. The King sat in this lodge and by his side 
was seated Lady Catherine. Lovely and radiant. 

The rustic lodge was quaint with its leopard skins roughly 
laid upon the floor. The oddly designed benches were suit- 
able for this styled lodge. The blue lanterns burned in 
clearest tints veiled only by an occasional flare of a passing 
lantern, set to flying in mid-air. This mid-night darkness 
was rich. The flaming colour of the crimson velvet cloak, 
so richly embroidered in jewels, hanging upon the shoulders 
of the King. The searching colour of Lady Catherine’s blue 
velvet robe set in bands of gold cloth and jewels. All stood 
out against this rich darkness of the lodge. The gay laugh- 


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ters and the pretty smiles of Lady Catherine fell upon the 
King like dancing sunbeams upon waters. 

The King bent his head and he laughed too. In the spirit 
of this merriment that crowned the people with gladness. 

Your Majesty, there! Lady Vivian, the Princess and Can- 
terre doth approach us, exclaimed Lady Catherine, pointing 
her finger to this party as they made their way towards the 
King’s lodge. And she waved her scarf to them. 

Ah! Father it is a jolly good night, this festival night. 

Come hither, daughter mine. And the Princess and Can- 
terre. Indeed I am highly pleased to greet thee. Come one 
and all. 

The lodge of the King was well filled with this royal party; 
each being pleasantly seated. 

The King turned to the Princess. Where is Theron, my 
dear? 

Whereupon a slight flush spread upon the face of the 
Princess even to the tips of her pretty shell like ears. And 
then a sullen smile fell upon her countenance. 

Your Majesty. I have not had the pleasure of greeting 
Theron to-night. If he be here, I have not met with him, 
she responded with downcast glance. 

Nor I have not seen him, my Princess, answered the King. 

And a momentary silence fell upon the party. 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

Vespers. 

The vespers bell was pealing forth in soft chimes. For it 
was eventide in the Convent of The Christians. 

A sweetly solemn atmosphere of peace fell. Every hall 
within the Convent was resting in shadow of this divine 
peace. 

A woman came from within one of the side halls. Softly 
treaded she. The chain of her many keys which she wore fas- 
tened around her waist, announced her coming. She knelt 
before an altar. She arose going directly across the long hall 
way. There she opened a large carved door and a number of 
women came out. They followed her with the same soft tread 
and in silence. 

In the midst of these Sisters there walked one woman. 
Tall, well poised. She bowed her head reverently. 

This woman was The Persian Princess of the Royal House 
of Persia. 

Princess Roxana had become of the Convent. Now, after 
a few moments these young women had left this sacred al- 


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207 


tar, and just as Lady Vivian had been admitted into the Con- 
vent. Coming from the main entrance. 

Mother, greetings unto thy Saintly Soul! And Lady Vi- 
vian bowed. 

Greetings, O daughter to the King! 1 bid thee a welcome 
in our Lord’s name, responded the Mother with down cast 
eyes. 

Mother, I beg an audience of thee, began Lady Vivian. 

With all pleasure, I serve thee, O daughter to the King, 
replied the Mother. Pointing to a large chair which rested 
against the barren wall. 

I thank thee good Mother. Are we alone? 

Entirely so. For the good women are all at their duties. 

Then I shall speak freely. 

The Mother bowed her consent and Lady Vivian began 
and at the same time she marveled at the beautiful serenity 
of the Mother’s face. 

Mother I come to seek, perhaps too boldly one duty of 
thee. 

O, daughter to the King fear not to ask of me. Neither 
of this Convent. We stand ready in the name of our Lord 
to serve Him. His will. 

Lady Vivian moved uneasily. 

Mother. Many weeks ago, a young mother met a most 
tragic death in the roadway leading into the lanes of the 
Race Course. Chariots were gathered making ready to 
enter the Arena for the race. This girl evidently become 
confused and she ran directly into one of the chariots. And 
this chariot was drawn by fiery horses. She was knocked 
down and stamped to her death by these spirited horses. Her 
body was mangled by the wheels of the heavy chariot passing 
over her. Within her arms she clasped a tiny babe. In the 
midst of this confusion one brave youth snatched the babe 
from her arms. Had he not done so, the babe would have 
been crushed to death like its mother. 

Here she hesitated, as she noted an unfriendly light upon 
the face of the Mother. 

And this child, where is it? Cooly asked the Mother. 

Mother I took it directly into the settlement home. 

And the child’s father? 

That, I am wholly unprepared to answer. I can learn no 
trace of the child’s father. 

Then, canst thee not learn of the girl’s parents? 

I have sought all too vainly. Mother. The girl’s mother 


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has been gone many years. Since the. early childhood days 
of the girl. Rubyat for that was her name was a daughter of 
the pigeon fancier living alone with her father. 

They resided in a humble little home in the outlying dis- 
trict of the city. The father is kindly but a man of very low 
caste. So I have learned. 

Ah! My good Mother. Canst thou not understand? It 
is the same story. Many times told. Mother! 

Lady Vivian ran forward and bent over the form of the 
woman. For the Mother had swooned. Slowly she regained 
her composure. It is nothing daughter. I pray continue thy 
story, and she sat upright. 

The face of the Mother wore lines of sorrow. Her heart 
was burdened with heavier lines of sorrow and grief. And 
Lady Vivian continued. 

The girl’s father is much broken in sorrow and he con- 
tinually cries for his Sunbeam, for that was his name for his 
pretty daughter. He brokenly related to me how she was the 
one bright spot in his declining years. How they lived to- 
gether and how happy they were. Ah! A pretty child was 
Rubyat. 

A rose-bud, exclaimed the Mother. 

Then, thou too didst know Rubyat? asked she in surprise. 

Nay. I drew from thy picture, my daughter responded 
the Mother in smuggled sighs. And Lady Vivian continued. 

The one thing now, I come to ask of thee, to arrange to 
place the babe in the convent. 

A babe here in the Convent? And the Mother lifted her 
hands in a terrified suggestion. 

My child herein these walls, where a stain has never 
fallen? 

But, my good Mother. Know well, there is no myster}^ 
shrouding this babe. Every one in Cairo knows of the tragic 
death of Rubyat. And of this her, orphaned babe. 

The Mother sat disquieted. 

Mother, the King suggested that I place the babe here, 
with thee. 

And the Mother raised her quiet face, a look of unhappy 
love shown for the first time upon it. 

The King? answered she in subdued tones? 

Yea, Mother. The King commands thee to this duty. 

Then, in the name of the King. The child will be re- 
ceived in the Convent. We have no children in the Convent. 
And Christ said “Suffer little children to come unto me.” 


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209 


Thou mayst bear the infant at once. 

Mother, I thank thee. I am most gratified at thy great 
and thy large goodness. Mayst the richest of thy Angels ever 
bless thee. Thy goodness doth shine, bright. To banish 
this gloomy sorrow. 

I beg of thee, speak not of reward. I serve in the name 
of my Lord. 

Mother thou knowst well. No money shall be spared for 
this infant. 

Money! Nay we do not accept of money. 

Then in the name of the King, the Convent shall receive 
a goodly endowment. 

And she arose to go. She took the hand of the Mother 
and pressed it gently. 

Mother, I will not detain thee longer from thy duties. 
Upon the morrow I shall come with the infant. 

As the two women stood face to face within the shadow of 
the wooden doors, Lady Vivian stooped to kiss the Mother. 
Whereupon the Mother quickly withdrew. She stepped 
aside from the touch of Lady Vivian’s lips. 

And most meekly she spake lifting her hand. 

Not my will but thine O Lord! 

Then, good bye, my good Mother. 

I bid thee farewell O daughter to the King! replied she 
with bowed head. 

And Lady Vivian slipped quickly out of this hall. She 
heard the heavy wooden doors swing shut in their lock. As 
she walked away she could hear the low, distinct chimes of 
the vespers bell. 

She stopped and listened. She too felt this expression of 
peace and good-will. It was divinely beautiful! 

And just on beyond. In front of Lady Vivian, a number 
of children were skipping in their childish glee. They were 
holding hands, skipping, laughing and singing. 

They soon come upon Lady Vivian, and they passed her. 
On they ran. The steps of these little feet, their soft child- 
ish voices, their happy laughing faces all bore the sweetest 
sentiment upon the heavy heart of Lady Vivian, as she 
turned watching them as they ran on out of her sight. 

Beautiful children! Sighed she. And then, the beauti- 
ful memory of providing a home for the orphan babe of 
Rubyat casts its reflection upon her. 

And Lady Vivian walked on towards her own palatial 
home. Touched by the tangible. A memory. 


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CHAPTER XXXIV. 

The Seven Whistlers. 

And The Golden Calf. 

The following day. Early in the calm of the morning 
Lady Vivian with one attendant bore the orphaned babe into 
the Convent of The Christians. 

She met with no one but the Mother and this Mother 
greeted her with a face bright with smiles. And it delighted 
the heart of Lady Vivian. 

The babe was bourne into a neat, clean but small chamber. 
A little crib filled with snowy white linens and downy pillows 
was in readiness for the babe, and as it was placed snugly 
within these linens; and with its little face upon the pillows. 
Lady Vivian leaned over it and covered its petit face with 
kisses. Then she turned to follow the Mother who stood 
in waiting at the door. 

Lady Vivian I want thee to feel assured that the child will 
be cared for. And properly. It will be nurtured tenderly 
and with a Christian love. Thou mayst come at any time 
to see the little one. 

Gracious mother, how I do thank thee. Thy boimtiful 
goodness doth show itself in this most charitable act. If this 
be the love of the Christian; I honour the Christian. And 
Mother, I shall come again upon the morrow. 

Then she left the Mother in this unexpected manner. And 
the Mother knelt beside the crib. She looked long upon this 
silent small babe, for it had fallen into sleep. Then. Great 
drops of tears trickled down her face and she buried her 
face in her hands. 

Rubyat, my child! Were the indistinct words of the sor- 
rowing Mother. 

And Lady Vivian after leaving the convent walked slowly 
in the shadow of the tall sycamore hedge. She was in deep 
study and her heart was filled with sorrow. She did not 
notice the form of a man who was before her. It was M. 
Clevelande. 

M. Clevelande I am quite gladly surprised to meet thee. 
And here. 

Greetings Vivian. This is a rare surprise. 

But M. Clevelande what would thou here in the shadow 
of the convent? 

By chance the kindred spirit of love doth lead me, like 
thy charitable self, Vivian. 

She smiled. She felt there could be not another purport in 


A Princess of the Orient 


211 


the whole of Cairo like the worthy purport that which bore 
her hence. And he read this inward joy and satisfaction in 
her face. 

Thy purport is of the Royal Court Vivian? 

Nay. But friend is not the Cabinet sitting this morning 
in the hearing of Theron? 

And as he looked perplexed she continued. 

I speak of Theron ’s arrest at the chase dinner. 

There is to be no hearing, Vivian. 

What strange news? There is to be no hearing? Then 
the arrest of Theron upon the night of the chase dinner — 
has it been released? 

Vivian, this arrest of Theron was but a vile attempt. A 
measure executed at the expense of Theron’s goodly name. 

Truly, M. Clevelande. Dost thou expect me to believe this 
tale? 

Believe it Vivian? All to certain. Was this arrest false. 
Political friends are much given to such tricks. It was of 
mere worth. 

Methinks that is a light and a malicious statement. I 
know politics do lead many divers ways. This was then, in- 
deed a black lead if such be true. 

Not so wicked Vivian. The political machine doth turn 
its wheel into many lanes. Both good and bad. But withal, 
as a well versed politician I can truly say, the wheels turn 
many ways. Ultimately good. Its strokes are advantageous- 
ly given. 

And M. Clevelande smiled while Lady Vivian felt a mis- 
trust. 

My good friend, may we leave the political problems. I 
will not tarry longer with thee. I would not intrude. Per- 
chance. A white Sister awaits thee within the shadow of 
the sycamore hedge. But have a care, for mark ye, the 
Saintly Mother has a pair of eyes like the Eagle. 

Baffle! Vivian, he responded with a snap of his fingers. 

Ah! But different, strangely different are the ways of the 
lover. And the loyal sycamore lends a wonderous enchant- 
ing retreat to the loving hearts. For the shadows fall in 
mighty gestures like an inviting inspiration, laughed she 
freely. 

I jolly well agree with thee Vivian. But it is not at all 
times love, that which sendth us forth upon our mission. 
There are other purports to commission us. 

Quite nobly spoken, friend. But now I needs must bid 


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thee a happy good day. For I have duties elsewhere, and so 
speaking she gave him her hand. 

Then, a happy good-day unto thee, Vivian if thou indeed, 
must go. With a light smile he kissed her hand and she was 
gone. 

He watched her as she turned, disappearing in the thick 
sycamore hedge. Then he mused over her words. “Too 
keep tryst with my loved one.” And a white Sister. 

He tossed his head backward with a laugh, then with a 
slow step he entered the Convent gate. He was admitted. 
He was met with the same gracious mother who had but 
the hour past spoken with Lady Vivian. 

Greetings Mother! A fair day unto thee. I come in the 
name of the Prince Governor. 

Thou art indeed welcome, gentle sir. Prythee recline thy- 
self with comfort. 

She pointed to a large oddly shaped chair made of the 
wood of the walnut. Without cushion or stool. He reclined 
himself beside this good Mother. 

Mother the Prince Governor M. Theron has just heralded 
me hence. He would know of the white Sister. The Princess 
of the Royal House of Persia. 

Ah, goodly sir, prythee do not speak the name so reckless- 
ly. One sister unto another in the Convent dost remain 
alike. Thou wouldst know tidings of the new White Sister, 
then? 

That is my mission, Mother. 

Then gentle sir. Beareth thou correctly this herald back 
to the Prince Governor. 

The White Sister, Esther ^ for we have christened her 
Esther. She rests well, she dost incline herself to obedience. 
Likewise to content. Her new duties are upon her and she 
walks in the blessed light of the work for her Master. Obe- 
dience, love and peace radiantly abide with her. 

These words thou mayst deliver unto the Prince Governor. 
That Esther doth honour the convent with the divine light 
of her presence. Rare buds are unfolding daily in the field 
of Divine Love. A gentleness submerges from her Soul. An 
inspiration from her free smiles. She has learned to say 
and to know the meaning of this phrase. 

“Teach me to know thy Will, O Father!” And she sat 
with downcast eyes. 

M. Clevelande marveled at this Mother’s faith. 

My good Mother, the Prince Governor will be greatly 


A Princess of the Orient 


213 


pleased to hear such goodly greetings from the Princess. 
From Esther, responded he. 

Yea. Gentle Sir bear him more. That Esther in her con- 
fession doth hold no cherished memories. Neither wordly 
friendships. Her life she has devoutly consecrated unto her 
Master and her Lord. 

These words I shall bear unto the Prince Governor, 
Mother. 

And before he was aware, the Mother arose in quicke 
motion. She opened the doors and bowed. Then M. Cleve- 
lande walked out of the Convent. 

As Lady Vivian leaving the Convent, returned in the 
King’s chapel, her light step, her bright smile was banished. 
She entered into a chapel and therein were assembled a num- 
ber of gentlemen who were in discussion. 

She dropped into a chair and gave her ear to their words. 

The Golden Calf was made by A1 Samiri. And Allah 
stopped the putting to death of him, by Moses. And it is 
not traditional but historical that ever since Samiri’s life 
was spared him by Allah, Samiri has liken some wild beast 
roamed throughout the world. Shunned by every one. Every 
man purifies the ground upon which his feet have stood. 
Likewise he himself, whenever he approaches man, exclaims, 
“Touch me not”! 

Lady Vivian moved in her chair and Theron who was one 
of the speakers, smiled. 

True, spake another gentleman. And are not the Seven 
Whistlers; plovers or wild geese sometimes only Jews who 
have been transformed? Because they had assisted in the 
crucifixion of Christ. And farther, added he, we all are wit- 
ness to the fact that to see or to hear these birds, is regarded 
as omens of disaster. This we all know. 

At this point Lady Vivian arose and drew her velvet 
mantle aside. 

Gentle Sirs, I, why this fcontinued and violent words 
against the Jews? This great greed filling thy bosoms for 
fabulous traditions and all too notoriously vile. And unjust. 
They were of our fore fathers. Come I prythee. Of the 
present day, can man do less than stand for a fair justness 
to all mankind alike? Be not bigoted hard ruling men. Lift 
thy voices in a more worthy cause. Canst thou do as much 
as I have done for one of the Jew? For I have striven hard 
to aid an aged Jew, who lays at the mercy of the people. In 
not too good a name. 


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A Princess of the Orient 


Gentlemen, I went into the vale, and there I gathered the 
petrified wood from the Red Mountains. I bound it upon 
the sick man’s head. And many. Things I have done for 
him. More than this. 

And of thy remedy given out of the fullness of the great 
heart of Canterre, the man of the hour? queried Theron with 
a smile. 

And this remedy too, Theron. If thou, good gentlemen 
dost pardon my words. I bound the Sacred Thorn upon the 
sick man’s head. And of this Thorn. It comes from the 
Crown of Thorns worn by the Saviour of the Christian 
people. 

But, my dear Lady Vivian, responded one. The Jew dost 
know naught of this Christ who wore this Crown of Thorns. 
Therefore the so named. Sacred Thorn. It will prove of 
no value to the sick man. 

This statement pleased Theron and he laughed. 

At the sound of his voice, she turned. 

I pry thee, thou dost laugh in thy mockery of the Jew, 
and of these Christians. It ill becomes a citizen of even the 
Orient to decry any man’s religion. Thy cause is lost sirs. 
Absolutely lost. 

A cynical smile passed over the faces of all the men pres- 
ent. But this captious grin did not cause Lady Vivian to 
falter in her words. She continued. 

The law which seated the Jew in the Consistory and mak- 
ing the Jew a part of Cairo. It shall stand. I well remem- 
ber, The body of this bill, which has become a law, was 
attempted to be amended to its failure. I rejoice that it 
stands a law. And gentlemen, it shall expand to a larger 
law, for Cairo doth stand upon the threshold of a great pro- 
gression. And as for the religion of the Jew. Of the Chris- 
tian. As of any citizen, is protected by law. The law which 
reads. “No law shall control the free exercise of religious 
opinions.” And further. There is a law that provides “that 
no preference whatever, shall be measured by any law to 
any one chosen creed or religion. Or to any certain mode 
of worship thereof.” 

Do I quote the law correctly, asked Lady Vivian. 

It is correct, answered Theron with a smile. 

I may presume, gentleman, that being familiar with the 
laws of Egypt. That it is thy will, desire and plans to leg- 
islate against these several laws in the next sitting of the 
Privy Council. Thou art very presumtuous, indeed! 


A Princess of the Orient 


215 


At this hioment Lady Vivian found she had ventured a 
great step and regaining her judgement she vdt idrev" from 
their midst. Leaving the meeting in this chapel. 

And they each turned one to the other. And a laughter 
followed the echoes of her retreating steps. 

But, friends, Lady Vivian speaks with a wisdom, spake 
one gentleman.. 

Upon me faith, that the gentle tones of a beautiful wo- 
man should cause thee such an inquiring mind. 

In that thou art in error. It was not the charm of the 
lady. And that is beautiful. It was in truth, the fact. 

What fact, inquired Theron. 

There may rest a wisdom in her well chosen phrases, an- 
swered he. 

And the'face of M. Theron paled. 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

The Shepherd's Dream. 

Blazing gaily red against a sky of purple. The sun was 
sinking in the far western skies. The golden streaks of sun 
light fell and played upon the face of the sick man as he lay 
in the isolated cell, ill with the fever. He fell asleep. Lulled 
by the soft reflection. Soon the shadows of twilight played 
upon him. 

In the silent hours of the early night he slept. And in his 
prolonged slumbers a dream come upon him. We follow the 
torch of Morpheus as it led the sick man’s thoughts in a 
dream. 

The spacious chapel of the King. It was lighted. The 
King was in the hearing of the report from the commission- 
ers whose report dwelt most forcibly with the tax commis- 
sion. With a few other municipal affairs. The King was 
bent in keen interest. He listened to the reading of the re- 
ports. Discussions followed in rapid fire. An agitation 
seemed to reek the entire chapel. The reformation cam- 
paign was talked of freely. Likewise the platform of Ther- 
on. And the platform of Canterre, the man of the hour! It 
was all discussed upon political lines from every angle. At 
length, these controversies disturbed the King. 

Sirs of this Court! This chapel ceases to be the chamber 
of commerce when thou dost pollute its very walls with hard 
controversy. With bitter accusations. It is most irksome 
to be audience to such bickerings. The tax commission has 


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given its report. The civic affairs have been reported upon. 
Therefore we may adjourn. 

The Councillors being dismissed, knew they had dis- 
pleased the King, and they left the chapel immediately. 

Now. The King meditating as he quietly watched his at- 
tendants standing beside his chair. 

They were engaged in a light conversation. It was unof- 
fensive to the King. 

At this moment the heavy brass trimmed doors swung 
open on its heavy but silent hinges. And Canterre was an- 
nounced. 

Greetings, your Majesty! And Canterre kissed the hand 
of the King. 

Fair morning, Canterre. Mine eyes feast in pleasure upon 
thee again, my youth. Thou dost come a goodly hour. 

Your Majesty, I rejoice in my morning hour with thee 
each day. Me thinks the day would never go wary hence, 
if I were denied the privilege of this hour with thee. In 
seeking thee, O King. Thy council doth lend colour to my 
ambition. Most vivid colours. And it fires my ambition to 
its greatest extent. 

My noble youth, thy pleasant compliments do much to 
cheer an old man’s heart. 

Nay, Your Majesty! I call thee not an old man. I pry- 
thee every person in Cairo doth well know thee to be young 
in heart and spirit. 

Nay! Hold youth, not so fast. Not such flaming colour- 
ing for thy words. Thou wouldst flatter the King. But 
I like thee much, my youth, for thou hast found thy way to 
my heart. The whole of Egypt come before me in loyalty. 
But. Canterre, but few come to me in love. 

Ah! Your Majesty, how well I feel this truth — that even 
the King hungers for love. 

Canterre, little dost thou know of the banished hopes of 
a life nearly spent. 

Neither dost thou know of the lonely heart aches of an 
old man. Those aches which can come alone, silently tread- 
ing in the shadow of age. 

O Your Majesty, I beseech thee. Count not thyself an 
aged man. Before thee doth lie many duties. There are 
many hours of the most pleasant hope. 

In that thou hast spoken the naked truth. True! True! 
It was but the tongue of the fool. He who hath spoken of the 


A Princess of the Orient 


217 


ashes of a spent life as scattered in hopelessness into the 
garden of blazed dispair. 

The King threw up his arms in wild gestures. Leaning 
back against his chair he dropped them limply at his sides. 
His head rested against the chair. And a silence fell upon 
them. 

Whereupon Canterre knelt beside the King. He spake 
gently into his ear. Then in the few moments that followed 
neither, the King nor Canterre heard the door swing open 
admitting Lady Vivian. 

She alarmed at this sight, reached her father’s side with 
rapid strides. In a distracted manner she leaned over the 
King. Kissing him. 

The King started. He opened his eyes staring at his 
daughter. ‘ 

Father mine, thou art ill? she quickly asked of the King. 

Fair daughter mine, nay. Be not alarmed. Merciful 
gods! Thou art welcome little one. Recline upon my 
knee. 

And Lady Vivian slipped upon the knee of the King. For 
the first time she turned to Canterre. 

Greetings, Vivian and Canterre kissed her hand. Then 
with a quicke bow he turned to leave them. 

Canterre thou must not go now, spake the King. Most 
of all. Now since we have with us, this darling. The King 
caressed her and smiled with tender pride upon her, while 
Canterre glanced at her. 

I prythee remain with us, answered Lady Vivian very 
softly. Alack! Canterre caught the soft words and he re- 
mained, reclining himself upon a low stool beside the King. 
After an awkard silence the King was the first to speak. 

Canterre what of the people upon this reform platform? 

Your Majesty I have every hope that it will be estab- 
lished. The people wax mad with the most eager interest. 
The districts outlying are strong for the reformation. They 
declare themselves outdone with the government of the 
present platform. An oppression lays heavy against the 
open Council. 

And this Council is necessary for the growth. For the de- 
velopement commercially of Egypt. We all agree that 
Egypt must not remain bound behind closed doors, for 
Egypt alone. 


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A Princess of the Orient 


Then, thou art speaking of commercial enterprises with 
Persia, Canterre? 

Not entirely alone. I speak also of the Jew Colonies. ^ It 
has been outlined. The commercial value of the Jewish 
Colonies. 

Well done! The present platform has just seated the 
Jew in the Privy Council. Yea. And much distressed are 
a fraction of our people. Rest assured, Canterre. The Jew 
by Act No. 586 is entitled to sit in the Consistory. 

Your Highness, but the people seek to overthrow, to leg- 
islate against the act. 

But, the King has decreed the order, broke in the voice of 
Lady Vivian. 

Daughter dost speak correctly. The right to decide for 
the Consistory, its laws, has been at all times, conferred upon 
the King. 

For a few moments the three sat in mute silence. 

Daughter, Canterre. Come both and sit beside me. I 
wouldst speak of important things. Now. 

The tapers burned in the urns just without the chapel. 
The incense wafted over the King’s chair. The dull redden 
light of a low burning fire with its cheery glow shone 
through black iron bars. Casting a reflection of harmony 
upon this small group. At lenght the King spake. 

Daughter, I wish thee to know a secret. One which I have 
kept locked within my soul and mind for months. I now 
unlock my secret, for our opportunity is well shaped for it 
now. In faith it doth touch upon both thyself and Can- 
terre. 

She glanced at Canterre. Canterre glanced at her, and 
they both moved with an uneasiness. 

My children, the King began. Many years ago. Dur- 
ing a war. Perhaps the Persians call it a light skirmish. 
The King of France was imprisoned. He was subjected to 
horrible tortue in this prison. The Bastille. And the Per- 
sian Shah directing his powerful forces, interfering in this 
war. Captured the old French King. 

Now with this French King there was an infant daughter. 
I am informed that soon after his delivery from this prison, 
the French King passed away. The Persian Shah taking 
the orphan daughter into his palace, making her one of his 
household. He cared for her as his own flesh and blood. 


A Princess of the Orient 


219 


And none knew. Time changed this child into a woman. 
A most beautiful woman. 

At this point the King faltered. 

The Princess Roxana is this young woman. Our Princess 
Roxana who hast come into Cairo. 

Father, cried Lady Vivian clutching the arm of the King 
There must be a mistake. 

Nay, daughter. I mistake not. The Princess Roxana is 
daughter to a French King. 

Canterre jumped upon his feet. He was pallid and much 
excited. He lifted his hand far above his head. And with 
a fierceness, his voice was pitched high. “My Vow be ful- 
filled.” Oh! My God! And he paced up and down in the 
chamber. 

The King turned and looked upon him, while Lady Vi- 
vian looked at him, with a wounded love. 

O King! I pry thee, I crave thy goodly pardon. Thy keen 
judgment can but show thee, that I am much distracted by 
this news. It doth not dispair me, for it pleasth me much, 
your Majesty. 

The King remained silently wondering at this attitude as- 
sumed by Canterre. 

And Lady Vivian felt a keen pain of doubt for she held 
a slight suspicion that Canterre might be sheltering a hid- 
den love for the Princess. 

Canterre, gentle youth, began the King with trembling 
words. I prythee recline thyself. Thy audience, that I 
may finish this tale. 

Whereupon Canterre reclined himself once more upon 
the stool of horn. 

The King continued. 

The French King passed away, the daughter was taken 
into the Persian Palace. She was made daughter to the 
Shah. At the same time and with this daughter. There was an 
attendant. A Jewish man who had been sold into this Noble 
French House. And he too had been thrown into the Bas- 
tille, the french prison. 

As the little French daughter grew into womanhood the 
services of this old man, now of many years, was sudden- 
ly dismissed. He was not desired in the Persian House. 
And so he was sent adrift, out of the Persian Palace. Ap- 
parently all trace of him had been lost. The Shah would 
not seek to bother himself concerning his whereabouts. 


220 A Princess of the Orient 

My children, me thinks I have identified this faithful old 
slave of the French King. As the King faltered his eyes 
were riveted upon Canterre. 

Father, it is not. It can not be the sick jew? exclaimed 
Lady Vivian. 

The same. Daughter mine. Exactly the aged Jew for 
whom thou hast cared for so charitably. All these months. 

Father! Can there be any doubt of this being true? 

Daughter heed thou my words. Go thou hence unto the 
sick man. Look. Look carefully upon the forehead of this 
man. If there upon thy eyes do behold a dull red mark. 
Shaping a cross. Which he doth seek to conceal with pos- 
sibly a cluster of hair. Then ’tis he. Solas! 

She stood aghast at her father. 

A red cross upon the forehead? Nay. Father mine, the 
cross is not upon his forehead. Flad there been any such 
a mark there, I would have seen it before. When I binded 
the Sacred Thorn upon his head. And. When I binded 
the petrified wood upon his head. I do not believe these 
markings are upon him. 

Vivian, interrupted Canterre, I prythee grant thou^me 
this privilege. That I mayst go with thee. To search the 
markings of this cross. 

Daughter. Go thou with Canterre. And go immediately. 
I shall await thee here. Rather. I shall await thy coming 
within my own chamber. 

And then upon hearing these words from the King Lady 
Vivian and Canterre obediently quickened their steps. 

From the hall door Lady Vivian slipped back. She leaned 
over the King’s chair and she kissed him upon the cheek. 
Before the King could turn around she stole away and he 
saw the heavy ormolu door swing shut. And while the 
King sat thus alone. Canterre and Lady Vivian went with 
hasty steps to the sick man’s chamber. 

In the darkened chamber the sleeping man was aroused 
by fever pains in his head. He tossed upon his bed couch, 
he glanced around him, his eyes piercing the intense and 
lonely darkness. Then. He knew he had been bourne away. 
Away in a dream. Only a dream. This dream bore fast 
memories of the days long gone. Of the time when he served 
his master, the French King. The time when he watched 
over the little daughter to the King. 

Solas! 


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221 


He surely heard his name spoken. He moved uneasily, 
then closed his eyes once more. It was a voice. Nothing 
more. And then. 

The trembling strings of Orpheus’s harp played in rap- 
ture with the sweet notes of a philomela. And the phil- 
omel sang as it sat perched upon the shrubbery hedge of the 
garden below his window. 

In the stillness of the night. Its rotund song was melo- 
dious and it fell with a wonderous sweetness upon the suf- 
fering man. 

It was an orison breathing companionship in the awful 
cold lonesomeness of the dismal night. 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

The Dream Interpreted by the Sooth Sayer. 

A magic mirror for divination of dreams was let down in- 
to Joseph’s Well, by a long reed cord, being allowed to hang 
there seven minutes, it was drawn up and a face was found 
upon it! 

This magic mirror was kept in a temple, secretly. A mag- 
nificently heavy molten brass cross upon which was resting 
an oddly shaped mirror unframed, was held by black clasps 
to the top of the Cross. 

Upon the back of this mirror were Egyptian cyphers sup- 
posedly purporting the magical power of the mirror. 

Now this sick Jew much perplexed by his dream implored 
Lady Vivian. That a sooth sayer be told of his dream, that 
he might interpret it for him. 

Lady Vivian moved by her usual sweet mercy consented 
and she heralded one Sooth Sayer. Not into the sick cham- 
ber for that was forbidden, but into another chapel. At a 
very short interval of time, an aged man bent and leaning 
upon a carved Ivory stick entered into this chapel. 

By his face distinctly, a scholar. His long white hair, his 
white beard added much to his bearing as a man of wisdom 
with and among the Egyptians. His gray eyes pierced the 
chapel. He walked directly to Lady Vivian. She frankly 
took his hand. 

Father thy coming is timely. Rest thyself upon this 
bench. And she placed a bench before the Sooth Sayer. 

I thank thee, O daughter to the King! And he reclined 
himself upon the bench. 

She reclining herself directly in front of him, related the 
dream of the sick man. 


222 


A Princess of the Orient 


Then having ended it, she said. Father this aged man is 
much agitated by his dream. In compassion I have heralded 
thee. 

The Sooth Sayer listened to her words and then he arose, 
answering her. 

My mission shall be to interprete the dream. Upon the 
morrow I shall return, O Daughter to the King! And he 
bowed low. 

I thank thee much, good and kind Father. She put a 
handful of rings into his hands, and he clasped them with 
trembling fingers. Then he was gone. 

This sooth sayer. Seer that he was. He returned into 
his own temple which stood very far distant and near the 
Nile course. 

Kneeling before a cross in this temple he arose, lighted 
the obscure little chapel with a number of white candles. He 
treaded with slow measured steps. 

Suddenly. There was a distinctly mightier light upon his 
face. Now. By chance there was a magical power of dis- 
cernment that which actuated this confidence. He un- 
clasped the mirror from its fastenings. In tender clasp he 
bore it out of the chapel. 

The art of the Sooth sayer directed his thoughts to the dan- 
ger of crossing the desert across the Nile River in the valley 
below. He walked to a vault within he fondled a fabulous 
monster. The Magic Cockatrice! This cockatrice is known to 
all Egyptian scholars. It is part bird. It is part serpent and 
it was held in deadly awe by the people of Egypt. 

The Sooth sayer asserts himself. Being protected. Being 
directed by this monster. In so much as can be credited, he 
possessed the most deadly power. That the hardiest plants 
would wither at its blow. Animals were believed to die 
from the poison extracted from its look. 

The weird legend of the fabulous cockatrice had it. This 
monster was produced from a cock’s egg. It was hatched 
by a serpent. That no living thing could kill it. Neither 
could its power be overcome, other than the cock. And even 
the sound of the crowing of the cock killed it. 

This cockatrice was used as a guide by the soothsayer in 
his mystic researches. 

However many brave huntsmen who had been Knighted 
by their King were known to have been guided across the 
plains of Egypt by it. And now. The Sooth Sayer with 


A Princess of the Orient 


223 


this magic mirror concealed beneath his long full grey robe, 
led by the Cockatrice entered upon his mission. Crossing 
the Nile far into a secluded spot he came. He halted in the 
shadow of the Citadel named. El-Kalah. 

The mosque of Oriental Alabaster fashioned after 
Egypt’s most unique structures. This Citadel stood wrapt in 
mystic. Everywhere round it were a deadly silence. Such 
a solitude that the breezes seemed in fear to stir the luxuri- 
ous border of sycamore trees which grew of unusual size. 
And which formed a retreat for this mosque with its grace- 
ful silver and brown branches so thickly clustered with 
green and white foilage. 

The figure of the man disappeared within the low opening 
of this mosque. 

Still another mysticism hung upon everywhere in this 
mosque. 

The unique rock ornaments. The mist as if arising from 
water, the deadly solitude of this mosque perpetuated a dis- 
mal chill of something akin to a grim dread to the most cas- 
ual observer. 

Alack! Unlike the Sooth-sayer. To him this mysticism 
lowering everywhere. Stimulated him. It invigorated. It 
overpowered him and promoted his greatest confidence in 
his magical hidden art. 

Within this mosque, the Cockatrice rested itself in a pro- 
nounced satisfaction, in one corner of this silent retreat. 
Perchance with a morbid fatigue. 

Albeit. This superstitious sooth-sayer believed him to be 
directed by the art of a magic. The much reputed magic 
mirror stood in its place. And near to it stood a hazel lod. 
Within a rock hewn pillow. In the exact center of this place 
is what the Egyptians called Joseph’s Well. Sunken within 
solid rock to the level of the Nile River. It reputed to be 
walled by a natural rock base. Upon this base the prophet 
lighted a censer containing incense. The intense blackness 
of this walled mosque was relieved by a few streaks of light 
only. This light may have been directed from the Sun’s 
glow upon the Sandstone Mountains. It covered all with 
out with its reflected bright yellow sand in drifts. And 
Mounds. 

The soothsayer hidden within his curtained niche denies 
all right of man’s privilege to probe his magic work of a^'t. 
The result alone will he, ever consent to give out to the in- 


224 A Princess of the Orient 

quiring mind. And it was this sense he gave out. 

I behold the severe visitation of the gods’ power upon all 
peoples. Not alone in Egypt. Likewise every people. 
Even unto the Jew. For mine eyes behold the gods’ breathe 
in the wiley wandering clouds. In the peaceful towering 
majestic mountains’ peaks. Within the serene shadowy 
vales and utmost in the real life of every people. Mine 
ears do hear this silent breathe in the turbulent winds. In 
the misty rainfall. In the fickle sunbeams. I hearth this 
breathe of the gods within the heart of every place. Man is 
born free. Brothers all. He who hath belief in mystic 
art hath equal share with he who hath more belief in world- 
ly dominions. There is a merciful wideness in the gods’ wis- 
dom. 

Let man’s dream belong to the dreamer, that his Soul may 
bathe in the balm of inspiring hope. That his Soul may go 
forth with the assurance of his crowning success. 

Judas fulfilled a most fearful dream of his Mother before 
his birth. That of throwing him into the sea to kill his 
father and sell his God. 

The Jew hath spoken of Christ as the “Nazarene the 
hung.” 

Jesus hath spoken unto the Jew, “I will stand here and 
rest, but thou shalt go on until the last day.” 

From the Mounts of Onion. Rather. The Mound of 
the Jewess to witch Sabbaths, being from the most hight to 
the lowest; the Jew shall be counted one of God’s children. 

The Wandering Jew. Called unclean shall be called pure. 
The wanderer become despised by all peoples shall become 
brother unto every man. The tread of a dawn of civiliza- 
tion beckons the reasoning power of intelligence to become 
more civilized in broader culture. To forever banish the 
satire. The naked prejudice of the dark ages, that which 
remains a barrier between the Jew and all peoples. 

The Jew no longer shall be tortured by strange peoples. 
The strange peoples shall no more be scorned by the Jew. 
Henceforth the restoration of brotherly love. The kindred 
spirit of fellow confidence between the Jew and the peoples 
will be accorded. 

This is the concise interpretation of the dream. The 
Egyptian cyphers employed by the soothsayer divined this 
meaning. He sat digesting his own phrases. And the Cock- 


A Princess of the Orient 


225 


atrice lay motionless. Near the Sunken Well. The magic 
mirror hung upon the hazel rod. 

Let vespers be sung. The heart is full. Vows are made. 

One sweet immortal kiss upon thy brother’s lips! 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

A Misused Divination. 

Conceptions all turn awry! 

As Lady Vivian and Canterre leaned over the form of the 
sick Jew, Lady Vivian gently bushed aside his long hair. Lo! 
There in a petite but dull red marking was a distinct design 
of what could be traced. A Cross. There was the cross. 

Faint. She turned and walked across the cell. She stood 
before the iron barred window. Canterre leaning closer 
over the man detected the mark at once. With a sweeping 
glance. Closer he bent near the man. He implored him to 
tell him of his life. Canterre feared the intelligence of the 
man might be stained with fever. 

My good man, I am Canterre. I am thy friend. Speak 
to me, art thou not Solas? And he leaned in a moment of 
suspense. 

The man opened his eyes with a threatened wildness. He 
clutched, at his throat, and nervously at the covering on his 
bed couch. 

Who? Who spake my name? he muttered brokenly. 

Then thou art Solas replied Canterre. Speak man. Thou 
art Solas? 

The man turned his head upon his pillow. He gasped. “I 
am Solas.” 

And he attempted to raise himself upon his elbow to look 
about him. 

Canterre walked over to Lady Vivian. He is Solas, Vi- 
vian. 

Yea. I heard his words, Canterre. 

Then Canterre returned to the bed couch. 

Thank gods! I have found thee before it is too late. Solas 
canst thou recall the French King Lewis? Thy old Master? 

With a restless excitement the man cried. 

Louis the King of France! My Master! 

Yea. Solas thou dost recall thy Master? 

Aye! Ido. But he has gone these many years. My most 
noble King and Master. 

Solas, think hard. Was there a little daughter? A wee 
tiny girl whom thy Master called daughter? 


226 


A Princess of the Orient 


Aye! Friend. A rose pretty little girl of five years was 
she. 

And dost thou recall her? 

The sick man smiled. ’Twas Roxana. Little Roxana. My 
friend a sweeter, a prettier little rose never bloomed than 
was our little Roxana. 

Ah! I wonder what ever has befallen her? Asked Can- 
terre leaning over the man. 

The old man faltered and there were two large tears 
glistening in his eyes. 

Thou canst clearly recall the King called his daughter by 
the name, Roxana? 

Yea. Roxana, we called her. 

Now Solas. Thou canst recall where little Roxana was 
taken when her father. The French King passed away? 

Now Canterre was breathless. 

Slowly the man answered him. I can recall it all, sir. The 
Persian Shah having taken the King, my master from his 
dungeon in. The Bastille. In France. Bore the King to- 
gether with little Roxana into Persia. 

Please, I prythee do not falter cried Canterre, as the 
man’s voice fell into almost a whisper. And Canterre 
dropped upon his knees beside the bed couch. The man 
continued after a moment’s rest. 

The Persian Shah, left the King’s body to be sunken with- 
in the tombs just without his home province. Not one per- 
son knew this body was the body of the aged French King. 

Solas! cried Canterre burying his face in both his hands. 
And did Canterre this great man sob? 

The old man continued. 

The Persian Shah bore our little beauty, Roxana and my- 
self within his own palace in Persia. Many. Many were 
the years we remained in the Shah’s home. When the break 
came at last. Our little Roxana had grown to be a woman. 
And the Shah delivered me into strange lands. In that ter- 
rible fear that I might reveal unto little Roxana, her real 
identy. And I have wandered. I have traveled in and 
through strange places ever since that day. At last. I entered 
into Cairo, and I was planning to go out of this city. Then 
thou dost know the rest of my tale. How I was wounded in 
the public park. How the beautiful Lady Vivian found me. 
And this sweet angel of mercy hast cared for me since that 
time. With the tenderness of a daughter. And now, the old 
man closed his eyes. Exhausted. 


A Princess of the Orient 


227 


Lady Vivian walked away from the window and she ap- 
proached Canterre. Who was still kneeling and shaking 
with violent sobs. Gently she rested her hand upon his arm. 

Canterre. The same Roxana? Our Princess Roxana? Is 
it the same girl? 

He answered her without raising his head from his hands. 

The same Vivian. 

Tragic were the tones of his words and she stood and 
looked upon him in his grief. How he loves the Princess! 

And with a faint heart she noislessly slipped from the cell. 
Canterre did not as much as hear her leave the^ cell. 

She hastened into the King’s chamber and entering the 
crimson curtained chamber, she ran to the gold leaf fauteuil 
of the King. 

Fatherl Father! ’Tishel ’Tis Solas! 

She threw her arms around the aged King. She sobbed and 
most tenderly the King caressed her. 

Daughter mine! Thou dost find the cross upon the fore- 
head of the man? 

Yea. He related with a clear distinctness the story of 
his past life. And of the life of the Princess Roxana. 
Father. The story is true. 

Come daughter mine! I would know of this man. 

Lady Vivian sitting upon a stool before the King’s fauteuil 
rested her elbow upon the knee of the King. She began in 
a languor. 

Father. The Jew recalled many years past, that the King 
Louis of France with an infant daughter was rescued from 
a dungeon prison in France. It was The Bastille. By the 
forces of the Persian Shah. By a mere accident. 

By providence, daughter mine, spake the King as he lifted 
his hand. 

Then in accurate words she related the whole story as she 
had heard it from the lips of the sick man. Having finished 
the story the daughter remained pensive. 

A presumption that the Shah acted in this manner. A 
wise step. That this orphan girl might be protected. Then 
there is no mistake, asked the King? 

There can be no mistake father mine. This man is Solas. 

Then of this Roxana, daughter? What of her family? 
She then, is of the Noble House of France. But, I shall go 
myself to the man, daughter. It would indeed be a pernicious 
act not to investigate this old man’s story. Upon the mor- 
row I shall go. 


228 


A Princess of the Orient 


Father, spake she after a brief silence. The Princess has 
entered the convent of the Christians. 

What is this? Princess Roxana is in the Convent? Im- 
possible! Of all the nonsense. Fie upon these Christians. 
Bother their Convent. But of all the persons in the whole 
of Cairo. Princess Roxana a white sister! My daughter dear. 
It is preposterous! This most irrational step. 

But father mine, it is true. 

Well ye gods! The whims of a woman’s mind. How long 
has the Princess been in this Convent? It doth seem but a 
few days. A very few days. That I spake with her at the 
Bath. 

Time dost speed, dear father for the Princess has already 
been in the Convent nearly a fortnight by now. 

What news! Strange I had not heard of this wild caper 
of hers. She deems it an idle fancy. Soon we shall see the 
beautiful Princess among the gayest of Cairo. This idol 
of the temples. Upon me faith, daughter. Dost Canterre 
know of this fancy of the Princess? 

She remained silent then she started with a slight blush. 
The King turned and looked at his daughter. Putting his 
hand under her chin he raised her face squarely before his 
eyes. 

Then, daughter. Is it such a burning passion? 

She could restrain the two tears no longer that trickled 
down her lovely face. Come sweet daughter mine. Save thy 
precious tears for a more virtuous cause. Is it so? That 
my little one is so madly in love with Canterre? 

Still she did not answer her father. 

Daughter, play thou fair. I seek to advise thee unto thy 
own goodly name. 

Whereupon she slowly raised her face towards the King. 

Father thou art greatly in error. Canterre doth well 
know the Princess hast entered into the Convent, responded 
she. 

Upon me faith, there doth lie a different meaning upon 
the whole affair. So! Canterre hath made a sweet choice. 
Thou art indeed fortunate for thou hast won the love of this 
gallant youth. 

But father, she interrupted. 

Nay! I know of what I speak. Naught but spumed love 
ever prepares a woman’s heart and mind for the Convent. 
This religious conviction — baffle! I do not sit idly by and 
having eyes to see. Do not see. Me thinks, I might be 


A Princess of the Orient 


229 


capped a fool were I not to see it all. The interest that 
which thou hast shown in Canterre. In his reform platform, 
in the election. Surely, thou art seeking to decieve thy own 
father. From the first time these pretty two eyes of thine 
fell upon Canterre. As he stood a captive clad in brown linen 
and saffron. When thy pleadings defied my very judgement. 
In truth from the first hour thou hast planned to steal his 
heart’s love. And to me. There is not a more noble youth 
in all Cairo than he. I have pledged my word to my best 
judgement. Canterre is the incoming Prince Governor of 
Cairo. 

Father! she cried kissing him fervently. Thou art indeed 
friendly to Canterre. 

Be it so, daughter. I remain loyal to the best there is in 
the noble- youth. Alack! He hath found a place in an old 
man’s heart and life. In an old man’s hungry heart. Has 
this honest and noble youth. 

O Father! I thank thee much. Then quite of a sudden she 
drew back and was silent. 

Daughter be not ashamed of the love of thy own heart. 
Thou art the brightest star in my Kingdom’s Crown. And 
yet there remains a keen desire for the love and companion- 
ship of a courageous son. Such as Canterre! 

Ye gods! For a son such as Canterre. The King passed his 
hand over his eyes, holding them there for several minutes. 

A dimly silent moment settled upon both the King and 
his daughter. 

Then the King moved. 

Embrace me, daughter mine. There! Thy sweet kisses 
are jewels. Now go to thy studies. I have much to attend to 
the remainder of these short hours. Come to me later. 

And Lady Vivian being to much overcome, turned and 
kissed the King and hastily departed from the chamber. 

Disconsolated with a longing for a touch. A word from 
Canterre! 

Even the joy of the King’s jests did not fall in with her 
mood. 

She retired into her own chamber. She threw herself upon 
a blue brocaded divan. She buried her face mid the blue 
cushions. 

She could see only Canterre. 

Canterre as she had first known him. And as she had 
grown to know him day by day. 

Canterre the conspicuous ornament in the reformation. 


230 


A Princess of the Orient 


The highest esteemed scholar in the polite society of Cairo 
and the men of letters. 

Canterre the noble, the kind. 

And she loved him. 

Ah: Canterre! Doth this same glow fall upon thy Soul? 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

The Tortue of The Shepherd. 

Solas. Closely verse thy memories. Speakst thou the 
little Roxana doth now abide within Persia with the Persian 
Shah? 

Roxana, sir? Roxana she was taken there. Believe my 
word good sir. For therein the magnificent palace of the Shah 
did I serve her well, until she grew to be older. Then the 
Shah delivered me out of Persia. 

And the father to little Roxana? Thou art certain of his 
passing away? The French King, thy master? 

Canterre bent over the man closely with abated breath. 

The French King? Yea. I am certain, sir. I served my 
master upon the long journey from France into Persia re- 
sponded the sick man as he lay back upon his pillow. And 
at this moment the door swung open for the Egyptian King 
was escorted in. 

Canterre stepped forward to meet the King. 

Greetings, Your Majesty! 

Greetings, Canterre responded the King as Canterre 
kissed his hand. 

The King! Cried the sick man with an excited move he 
lifted himself upon his elbow. He gazed at the King for his 
drift in a misty way was to hail his old master. The French 
King. 

Oh! The Eg5rptian King. A dismal light then crept in his 
eyes. 

Greetings, Your Majesty! He faintly exclaimed. 

And the Egyptian King stepped across up to the bed 
couch. He gently took the trembling hand of the sick man. 

Solas thou art comfortable? I notice thou art alert to thy 
surroundings. 

I thank thee, O King. Pardon an old man’s wandering 
mind. At the first moment of thy coming I believed thee to 
be my old master, the French King. 

My good man. This tale? That which the Lady Vivian 
hast related to me. It is an accurate story? Do not fear mv 
good man. I am thy friend. 

Then Canterre spake gently. Solas, do not fear it is the 
Egyptian King who doth greet thee. 


A Princess of the Orient 


231 


Lady Vivian? Your Highness. I spake not to she. 

Whereupon Canterre lifted his hand to the King in a ges- 
ture of silence. 

Then Solas. The French King, thy master was rescued 
from his prison dungeon within France? 

My master was delivered out of the Bastille and the Per- 
sian Shah bore him into Persia. And with him little Roxana. 

The King bent over the man. He brushed aside his curly 
hair and looking upon the markings of a shaped cross bourne 
upon the forehead. He turned slowly with a satisfaction. 

That is all Solas, my good man rest thyself. And the 
King turned to Canterre saying. 

The story is worthy of credence. Then without another 
word he departed from the chamber. He went directly into 
his own chapel. He summoned his cabinet for a meeting. 

The Prince Governor M. Theron by occasional accident 
followed the cabinet into the King chapel upon this very 
hour. 

He learned the sense of the cabinet meeting. That their 
meeting had been a decision of the King to establish the re- 
form policies in all institutions of learning in the city. Such 
as temperance. The discipline of white morals. 

Now. Be it known that Theron under the futherance of 
his own party had licensed the larger institutions in the city 
to remain free. 

Likewise he had pressed down the free educational mosque 
into a mere school becoming insignificant. The day schools, 
the charitable institutions were neither of them scarcely 
open. They showed themselves to be unfit for a clear 
schooling and for an advanced learning. 

Now the King keenly observed how the people were dis- 
turbed over the present conditions of these schools and in- 
stitutions of learning. It was a virtuous cause for dis- 
turbance. 

These conditions could not be changed, otherwise than by 
a change of government in Cairo. 

And Canterre’s reform platform covered these conditional 
changes minutely. And thoroughly. 

Theron heard the King’s decision. And by virtue of law, 
the King’s order was authority. 

His susoicions up to this hour made him fear this action 
from the King. And now it has been measured. And in a 
defeated hope. He recalled the effect of the reform upon 
the public works. Upon the agriculture, the commerce as 


232 


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well as the Public Instruction. And all subdepartments of 
the Customs. Upon the post offices, which would be gov- 
erned thereby. The Privy Council. Rather. The Cab- 
inet had now adjourned and Theron consulted the King, 
in an interview. 

Your Majesty, thou art in favour of this new reform plat- 
form, asked Theron. 

Upon my word, Theron. Justified in an open statement. 
Decidedly. I am in favour of it. 

A mean cowering look covered Theron’s face. 

The King continued. Cairo stands in dark shadows of a 
loose discriminately loose government. Verily do I hold 
the opinion. That it is due time. It is befitting of the King 
to remain loyal to the goodly cause of his people. In as 
much as his people stand helpless. Sinking. In the grip of 
pointed political government. 

Theron was* startled at these plain spoken words coming 
from the King, whereupon. Heretofor it was impossible to 
obtain an interview with the King. 

The King noted his resenting glance. Then he continued 
with even more forceful words. 

The Prince Governor is appointed by virtue of his rank to 
give the best to his people. Likewise the gift of every citi- 
zen is employed for the common good of all Cairo. 

Your Highness. Pardon my inquiry. Dost thou hold that 
I have failed in the duties of this office to the people? 

Ruthlessly so! I speak plainly Theron. It is my mind 
to speak so. 

Your Highness I pry thee dost thou believe the people have 
all given me their best support in all important affairs of the 
city? 

I virtually believe Theron. Hadst thou been more up- 
lifting in thy policies. More loyal in clean principles. The 
people might have felt justified in supporting thy platform. 
As it stands at this hour, their minds rest upon a reforma- 
tion. Neither do thy principles find favour with me. Theron 
thou hast fallen filthily. Thy moves tread towards the ob- 
scene. And they serve to weaken our city. 

The King lifted his restless eye to the opening of his 
chapel when a crash startled both the King and Theron. 

Lady Vivian with Lady Catherine was entering the chapel. 
They carried a fancy petted pigeon. The pigeon had flut- 
tered out of Lady Vivian’s hands. It fell upon the floor but 


A Princess of the Orient 


233 


instantly it flew again across the chapel. Soaring around 
and about the chapel. 

Daughters mine! Exclaimed the astonished King. Wel- 
come, and what manoeuvres! Vivian thy childish play with a 
pigeon — may I send thee back to thy nursery again? 

Greetings! Spake Theron kissing the hand of both the 
ladies. 

The pigeon father is it not a beautiful one? queried Lady 
Vivian. 

Before the King could answer the pigeon flew against a 
statue in one corner, and fluttered for a hold. At last settling 
upon a chest nearby. 

All eyes were upon the frightened pigeon. And Theron 
looked too. At this splendid pigeon in its graceful ease 
now. Suddenly his eyes became blurred and his face 
blanched. A look that was frightful came upon him. He 
shrugged his broad shoulders. He knit his brow, then he put 
his hands over his eyes and exclaimed in alarm. 

Take it away! The pigeon! Gods be merciful. Take 
the pigeon away! And with a mighty stroke of his arm he 
struck at this pretty pigeon. But the pigeon soared grace- 
fully and easily to the other side of the chapel where it 
perched itself upon a statue. And it stood in a survey of all 
its surrounding, in a most satisfying way. 

While Theron like a haunted man swung himself out of 
the chapel. Going into the long court without. He cared 
not where it led him. But to go away from it all. 

Father, Theron is possessed of some sudden madness! 
What is it? 

And the ladies ran to the door to look after him. 

It remains a trick perchance, answered the King. He is 
much troubled. Rather. Is he tainted with foul trickery. 
What matters, daughters mine? He is gone. He hath done 
well in absenting himself. 

Now tell me. What news of the sick man, Vivian. 

Father mine, Solas has just passed away. 

Solas passed away! repeated the King. Alas! Another 
weary Soul gone to tread the mysterious paths of the gods 
into the unknown lands. 

There was a momentary gloom. Not a regret, neither a 
grief. Settling upon these three people. In this silent 
moment. 

And Lady Vivian taking the hand of her companion left 
the chamber. While the King sat alone. 


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The martial. The independent spirit of the King was 
mellowed as he looked at the pigeon still perched upon the 
statue in his easy position. Now it did not flutter in fright. 
It turned its shapely little head as if to look into the face of 
the King. It might have wished to speak. O King, there 
is a protection in solitude ! 

But the pretty pigeon knew not what ghosts threatened 
the King in his lonely vigil. For there were many floating 
before his eyes. 

Then the lovely face of Lady Vivian fell upon his wonder- 
ing eyes. It was but a vision. Her face lined with shadows 
of sorrow were deepening. She seemed liken some tender 
blue bell in the shady vale. She was neglecting the exercise 
of happiness. She was drooping in some sorrow. This. 
Such a state of her condition must not remain so. If there 
be a weight of some secret sorrow he would lift the sorrow. 
And. At once. 

My daughter! My own little Vivian, it is breaking my 
heart to see thee in this sadness. And as he buried his face 
in his hands. 

A musical silence echoed his words. They fell upon him 
with a start. 

And then. Speechless he sat and pale. 

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

The Blue Muse. 

The sculptor court of Lady Catherine was open to the 
polite society of Cairo. An exhibition was being held of her 
sculptor work. Her court was pronouncedly an elegance of 
execution. And grace. A beauty akin to great divine ideals. 
Her characteristic was that she worked the style, the 
models of Classicism. For she was an artist for true love of 
Art. Her models were created from a fantastic world. One 
in which the Sculptor dreamer rambles. Indulging in caprice. 

In one corner of her studio chapel. A number of people 
were gathered. A rare bit of modeling held their greatest ad- 
miration. It was that of the Blue Muse. Carved from the 
finest marble, shadowed in mid-night blue with touches of 
daring orange yellow. Upon the shapely tapering finger of 
’ this Muse sat perched a cockatoo. Sculp tored and made of 
the most vivid colour green. 

This. Lady Catherine had fashioned after the Muse. 
And of the Ancient Legend of the Blue Muse. 

M. Cleveland^ was one of the number of guests who 
lingered near this statue of the Muse. 


A Princess of the Orient 


235 


It is marvelously sculptored, Catherine. Thou canst al- 
ways find a thrilling, a thorough enthusiasm for the Ancients, 
my dear. And thy models do proud to thy genius. Really, 
they one and all do shed such delicious light. Behold 1 What 
dreams are life and lovel 

I thank thee M. Clevelande. And the dreams of an Ar- 
tist. They are bourne of. Almost the highest, the most 
sublime desires of the human heart. It is impossible for even 
a genius to mould, to clothe his dream, responded the Sculp- 
toress. 

Catherine, cried M. Clevelande as he took a step forward. 
Whereas she scarcely stirred. For she had ceased to tremble 
at the sound of his voice. 

But a sudden impulse, a sudden dream came upon him 
and he continued. 

My dear, I have seen the relief. The one which thou didst 
sculptor for the singing galleries over the sacristy in the Ca- 
thedral. I think it most wonderful. 

Many thanks, my friend. Hast thou not seen, the Dance 
of The Shadows? And the Chariot Race? she asked with 
alert tones. 

Both have I had the great pleasure to look upon dear. The 
Dance of the Shadows in the Institute. I adore that one. 

Yea, the Dance of The Shadows is my really first lay pic- 
ture, answered she with a growing interest. 

And its rare intrinsic beauty commands the highest ad- 
miration too. Catherine, from even an uncultured mind, 
such as mine. And Catherine, yestern morning I visited the 
Palace of Perfume. From a retreat therein I viewed the 
relief there, also. The honey comb tracery in thy sculptor- 
ing of the sighing wind is magnificent. Truly jt is of a nat- 
ural art. One could but catch the mournful sounds of the 
winds as they pass over this bed of graceful and slender 
reeds. 

And that model, friend I have donned — The Breathe of 
Sorrow. 

Why, Catherine dost thou attempt to fashion after Sor- 
row? With thy care free nature! And thy happy life! As 
he spake these words he glanced about him. 

He took advantage of the moment for the guests were ex- 
aming the Blue Muse. 

He then leaned over the Sculptoress and in low voice he 
whispered. 

Sorrow! So it is. Sorrow is the end of Love’s sweetest 


236 


A Princess of the Orient 


fable. The dreamer best dreams when shaken with the 
ghosts of Sorrow. Catherine, thou art my life. And I 
love thee! Canst thou not understand? 

The delicate Jessamine perfume. The dainty beauty of 
the lovely sculp toress took a new possession of M. Cleve- 
lande. And he stole her hand, smothering it with kisses. Ah! 
My sweet Catherine, the velvet paw of the panther steals 
goodly graces from its own destination, he continued. 

I prythee, thy words do labour in strange misapprehen- 
sion for I know not of what thou dost speak. Neither. Have 
I inclination to learn thereof. And so speaking thou dost 
speak not again of any favour, she replied as she drew away 
from him. 

Too distinctly, Catherine thou canst divine the meaning 
of my words. Canst thou then, bear no compassion for me? 

Friend, I like not such tangled phrases. Thy actions do 
become most intrusive. I prythee, I would not incline my 
ear farther to such words. Come let us join the people. 

But he stepped closer to her. He rudely snatched her 
hand as a wicked gleam came into his eyes. And his lipes 
sconed. 

Then. Then my dear since my words remain fruitless. 
Wouldst thou prefer me to speak of thy lover? This would 
please thee more, I ween. I know tidings of Mordane would 
charm thee. Wouldst thou like to know tidings of Mordane? 
Well then. Mordane doth reside within Alexandria in sweet- 
est recline. For Macchantia hast joined him, there. 

Macchantia? gasped she, caught by this unexpected mali- 
cious intention of M. Clevelande. Macchantia of the date 
grove? 

The same, my dear. The beautiful daughter of the im- 
mensely rich date grower. And a fortunate youth is Mor- 
dane. Ah! Macchantia is a charming creature. An en- 
chantress! And divinely fair! Wicked some have called her 
while I would not call her so. Only when Macchantia loves? 
Beware of her passion. 

Lady Catherine faced him with indignant pride. 

That. Is a lie clumisly versed! 

Upon me faith Catherine, thy attitude is immensely con- 
vincing of my most dreaded conviction. I was fearfully 
hoping that I might have been in error. 

And, man that thou art M. Cleveland^. Likewise the 
mocking birds do rehearse their songs. As she answered him, 


A Princess of the Orient 237 

the blood tinged his cheeks as her stinging words fell upon 
him. Then assuming a smile he said. 

Like, so like the tender vine. Clinging to the grand oak. 
Thy passion of love bespeak thy love for this gentleman. My 
Sweet Catherine. 

And friend. With it all. A myriad winged shaped thing 
reveal much of the memories of the faith a maiden fair, once 
bore thee. All too falsely. Why even the dumb sand mounds 
beyond the Nile hint memories of this fateful past. 

Thou speak of Rachina of the gondola port? 

And he laughed, snapping his fingers as to make jolly sport 
of such light memories. Of past fancies. 

Thou mayst strive to put aside the mad love of Rachina, 
friend. How loyally once didst thou relish this girl’s love. 
And how unfair didst thou play what thou shaped, gallant- 
ly. To win the free love of this girl. 

Catherine, time hast so surely cheated thee, for Rachina 
has been wedded many weeks to Ondilath. Thy memory my 
dear doth not play thee, fair. 

Ondilath the proud youth of the gondola port? This is 
indeed a bit of most happy news. I rejoice in Rachina’s 
goodly choice for Ondilath is a most noble youth. Cairo 
doth bear none better. And Rachina is a lovely maiden. 

At this moment they were interrupted. A youth was pass- 
ing among the guests. He was swinging a hand censer by a 
chain, in which the scent of aloe wood served to refresh them. 
The stifling heat of the chapel was oppressing but it was 
quite overcome by the aloe wood. 

M. Clevelande turning allowed his eyes to follow the care- 
less youth as he passed on and among the guests. And the 
guests were examining the decorative richness of the Sculp- 
tor chapel. They marveled at the imaginative splendeur of 
every model. The sweetness. The harmony of the models. 
From these spectators Lady Vivian with Canterre ap- 
proached the corner wherein Lady Catherine and M. Cleve- 
lande were standing. 

Greetings Canterre. I am pleased thou hast come with 
Vivian. 

I trowth Catherine, thy charming pleasures doth possess 
me most. Thy works they rival any that I have seen in the 
City. And with no mean flattery I speak more. There re- 
mains no models in Cairo. Neither in France like thy work. 

Have a care Canterre for thy extravagance is not so 
wisely lavish. I may be sunk in such compliments. 


238 


A Princess of the Orient 


Not in the least do I fear such a misfortune, Catherine for 
a true genius is at no time flattered into a silly conceit. 

Indeed I do thank thee much, Canterre. 

As Canterre glanced about him, he noted that M. Cleve- 
lande had left the party. And sullenly. He was making his 
way among the guests within the chapel. 

Catherine, I have some pleasing news for thee. Some news 
that I believe most concerns thee, spake Canterre in a lower 
voice. 

News? Queried she. I pry thee what news? Has any 
thing happened to Mordane? 

Canterre smiled at this first thought of Lady Catherine. 

While she sighed a smothered tearful spell. And in her 
mind. Hushed. Into the distance reaching only between she 
and Mordane. A picture. Yestern day. A withered pic- 
ture. To-day a wish blown from the Aurora. And it was 
that her Soul was lulled. Not by the poppies scent. By the 
bliss of Love’s deep devotion. 

Catherine, Mordane has been commissioned to return at 
once into Cairo. The gallery in the north colonnade of the 
Bath has been ruined by water. 

Mordane! Exclaimed Lady Catherine. The gallery in 
the Bath! I am sorry the gallery of the Bath is, damaged, 
but isn’t it glorious? Vivian dost thou not hear? Mor- 
dane is to come back. At once. 

And Lady Catherine pressed her hands together tightly in 
a moment of her new happiness. Her lips parted in rippling 
laughters. 

Lady Vivian as she watched her, shook her head slowly. 
Then turning to Canterre she said. Inconstant! Constant! 

Such happiness served finely to beautify Lady Catherine’s 
face. 

She turned to Canterre. 

Now I have an excellent report to please thee, my friend. 

A report for me, Catherine? 

Yea. A very important report. It is this. I heard the 
King, after having conferred with the Privy Council, speak- 
ing with some court members. Yestern day it was. 

The King? 

The King spake thus. The reform platform must be es- 
tablished. For a safeguard for the people. It remains true 
that the destruction of Cairo is yawning in the clutches of 
time. The present time. This deplorable condition chal- 
lenges comparison of its record with those of its former ad- 


A Princess of the Orient 239 

ministration, which was more clean than it shows itself at 
the present day to be. The only medium by which a change 
of government may be brought about is the great reforma- 
tion. 

Catherine, the King he doth come this way. Whereupon 
they all turned and the King was upon them, 

Vivian my daughter, here thou hast hidden thyself ; and he 
embraced her. 

And Catherine I greet thee fairest daughter. I am moved 
with the same enthusiasm, that which has filled the minds 
of all these guests for thy beautifully appointed Sculptor 
court. And I wanted very much to view the Blue Muse. In 
the new lights. 

I thank thee, Your Excellency. Thy interest doth charm 
me muchl 

Ah! Canterre, replied the King. Fair greetings unto thee 
my youth. 

Greetings, Your Majesty, and he kissed the hand of the 
King. 

The King then turned again to Lady Catherine. 

Now, my dear I would deem it the highest favour. I pry- 
thee escort me to The Blue Muse. 

I am indeed flattered, responded Lady Catherine with a 
coquettish bow of her pretty head. And leaning upon the 
arm of the King. She led him before the Blue Muse. 

She drew aside a pair of heavy richest blue velvet cur- 
tains. Of the true. Oriental blue colour. 

And the Blue Muse stood exposed. Artistically posed 
within this gold trimmed canopy. The dull lanterns of the 
conventional Egyptian design were melting in jacinth tints. 
And the Muse stood there in brightest tranquility. 

The King. Alike the guests marveled at the passionate 
setting of this model. 

Gorgeous! Gorgeous, my daughter. All descriptions of 
it only fail in its warm colour, exclaimed the King as he stood 
with his eyes fastened upon this exquisite Muse. 

Truly your Majesty! For words can not become strokes of 
the chisel. That is impossible. 

Dearest Catherine, the chapel doth greatly. An honour 
to the labours of a genius. 

Ah! Come, may I not escort thee into the far niche in the 
opposite corner . I have assembled a collection of the 
Nymphs. I love them to a distraction. 

And she closed the heavy blue velvet curtains upon this 


240 


A Princess of the Orient 


statue. And as they turned to go. The guests made way for 
their King. As Lady Catherine led him into this garden of 
nymphs. Wherein her pride was much given. 

A collection of Nymphs. My darlings! exclaimed she as 
she stood in admiration of this fancy view of the gathering 
together of these Nymphean Creatures. 

Beautiful, Catherine. My sweet daughter with the dream- 
er’s web of fanciful ideals upon her. And herein, my dear. 
A garden of love tales! All showed with fragrant sentiments 
and garnished with sweetest whispers. Likewise passions 
deep. For deep are the flaming passions in the pit of human 
love. 

Ye gods! Under such a canopy of the gods Charity! 
What wouldst I for a bench within this garden? And re- 
clining upon the bench become insensible to all else. But 
the touches of these nymph’s sweet lips. 

Lady Catherine unnoticed the intent of the King’s words. 
Still he continued. And she believed him to be enamoured 
of the charming vapor of these visionary creatures, for they 
were of these capricious designs. 

Catherine the fling of Cupid doth enthrall. And now. A 
hidden pain doth lie within its gilded net. Ah! But Cupid’s 
nest is soften. Sweet is repose thereupon. But! Caught in 
its meshes. A struggle is faint. So faint. And then the fall 
is content. What wonder the stars do softly shine! 

And the King raised his hand in a gesture. 

Impulsively she layed her hand upon the King’s arm. She 
was so happy! 

Your Majesty! Mordane returns at once from Alexan- 
dria. Canterre just now has acquainted me with this glad 
news. The frieze in the Bath has been ruined by water. 
Most certainly. Your Majesty. Mordane remains the one. 
The only Sculptor in all Cairo whose genius can chisel an- 
other such a frieze. 

The King leaned closer. His eyes penetrated the happy 
lit face of Lady Catherine. This moment then. He under- 
stood. And with a pained heart he turned aside. He gently 
patted the lily white hand of the Sculptoress as it lay so 
willingly upon his trembling arm. 

And the tapers in the chapel twinkled liken white stars do 
in the serene heavens. Just like the soft light of the red 
Arcturas, the vapors from the burning aloe wood scented 
everywhere. 

The pulsing silent beauty. Of the lover’s dream. The joy 


A Princess of the Orient 


241 


in a sphere of love and exquisite harmonies. So near. A 
lilt of heart’s love! 

Upon this moment. The King with the Sculptoress, all 
unsuspecting, still leaning upon his arm turned away; 

Wine was poured. The music of the harp. Soft and low. 
And the guests were departing from the Sculptor chapel. 

The King took his departure likewise. With a silent 
tongue. With an aching heart. And she was left alone. 

Wearied she reclined herself upon a marble bench. This 
bench stood directly in front of the garden of Nymphs. 
Seemingly these fanciful creations soothed her. 

Lo! The sheaves of her work. The struggles. The joy 
and lastly. The pain of a truly great genius. A heart’s in- 
ward, most divine passion of talented art lighted her face. 
And her hair so charmingly arranged, framed her lovely face 
into an exquisite picture. 

The contrast of her blackest robe set in brilliant topaz. 
With ermine bands of fur. As she leaned against the crimson 
velvet drapery lying across the marble bench upon which 
she was seated. 

This picture was a silent echo of the gods’ proclaim! 

Enshaded in a divine forgetfulness, the golden haired 
sculptoress reclined. Twilight hours lightly. And free were 
fast stealing into the chapel. And she was alone. And happy. 

The doors swung open, the heavy curtains parted. Then 
Mordane entered with a hasty step. With an imposing 
move, he gained the side of Lady Catherine. He tossed his 
velvet and linen turban thereby upon a something. Some 
place. 

The fairest of flowers! My Catherine, cried Mordane em- 
bracing her. And she remained in amazed startle. Then. In 
this all powerful silent gaze. A passionate love beamed 
forth. She looked once. Then again. And then Mordane 
felt the touch of a velvety cheek against his own. He felt 
a hot burning kiss upon his lips. 

Mordane, whispered the Sculptoress as she pillowed her 
head upon his manly breast. 

Sweetheart! Behold the night is gone, answered Mordane. 

CHAPTER XL. 

Chloris Goddess of Flowers. 

Say, why are Beauties praised and honoured most, 

The wise man’s passion, and the vain man’s toast? 

Canto V. — The Rape of the Lock. 

Pope. 


242 


A Princess of the Orient 


Be merry! The wedlock of lovers twain! 

The marriage of Lady Catherine and Mordane took place 
upon the first hour of the Eventide. Of a certain day in 
early Summer. 

Lady Catherine was a lovely bride in whiten satin and 
matchless lavish pearls. And Mordane stood a proud bride- 
groom. He had opened his heart wide for his bewitching and 
blushing bride. 

The bride had only one attendant in her bridal train, and 
that was Lady Vivian. 

Lady Vivian too. This beloved daughter of the people 
was entrancingly beautiful in filmy whiten satin and brocade. 
And Canterre bore a bridegroom’s fullest desire and this he 
did with a pride and a secret joy. 

A most notable marriage in the city was the marriage of 
Lady Catherine and the gentleman, Mordane. 

The King sat among the guests. All the nobility of Cairo 
as well. A splendid and worthy feast was served to these 
guests of nobility. The feasting table stood within the open 
court of the palatial apartments. Wherein the marriage had 
been solemnized. 

The misty skies, the silvery moon light poured from above 
falling over the sparkling fount in this Court. It made a 
clear setting in a beautiful garden and this garden led into 
the feasting court. 

Brilliant showers of light from the lanterns glowed down 
upon the feast. A most charming picture was this gathering 
of the Royalty. The love feast of a divinely blissful wedded 
pair! A more splendid display of gold cloth could not be 
rivaled in Egyptian Society. 

And elegantly the marriage feast was served. 

The attendants clad in whiten satin wearing boots of scar- 
let. These attendants bathed their hands with the paste of 
the sweeten odorous frankincense. The singers sang softly 
to the music of their lyres. There were youths who carried 
the dignified laurel branch. There were maidens who held 
graceful wiley garlands of the lotus bud in artistic pose. All 
were clad in whiten and the maidens wore no boots. 

Attendants. Many there were who swung the golden ore 
censers of burning vapors. 

Athwart the upper end of the Court two court dancers 
wearing whiten veils. And bands of black tulle encrusted 
with brilliant topaz upon their arms. Upon the slender left 
ankle of each they wore a broad garter of the stones. Ru- 


A Princess of the Orient 


243 


bies. They danced in fantastic, in pretty steps, and they 
charmed the eye. And this is to speak in lightest compli- 
ment of these court dancers. 

In another corner of the court in a huge case of glossy 
blackest reeds sat perched a cockatoo of swany white. Its 
crest of scarlet. This contrasted with a natural, a novel 
charm. Then. Far in the front corner of the court stood a 
marbled statue of the flower goddess. Chloris. 

This statue was conventionally encased within a bevelled 
glass case, which had its sections formed of art Squares in 
gold lines. And this case stood artistically laden with gar- 
lands of choicest roses. Of every hue. 

Following the Egyptian custom. The wedded pair knelt 
before the goddess, Chloris. Each guest followed likewise. 
For the sweeten sentiments with the tender compliments of 
Chloris bathed her guests with a vapor of delights. With the 
smile of love’s adoration. This smile that was everlasting 
upon the delicately carved lips of Chloris, seemed but now 
upon this occasion to part in motion. And to speak a divine 
blessing upon the wedded pair. A blessing. That which 
metered alone for the constant lover’s heart. 

Amid the gay and notable gathering there \Vere two guests 
who were not present. These were the Princess Roxana and 
M. Clevelande. 

Tales upon the lips of the guests caused them to turn one 
to the other in rumors. 

It was now known that the Princess was in the convent. 
But why did not M. Clevelande attend this feast and mar- 
riage. 

And many were the whispers. Of the most violent love, 
and the insane passion that which M. Cleveland6 held for 
Lady Catherine. 

Among the notable guests an imposing figure. M. Theron 
sat in their midst. 

The feast being done. Later in the night M. Theron 
found an occasion fitting for a revenge upon Lady Vivian. 
And who among these guests was possessed of a better nature 
not to deny this piercing opportunity? Than he — Theron? 

Lady Vivian overcome by this marriage felt a grasping de- 
sire to be away from the confusion of the guests. 

She slipped away into the spacious garden of this court. 
And finding there a low comfortable bench that stood against 
a graceful palm. Here. She reclined herself. Unseen and 
unheard by any of the guests. Even now upon this hour 


244 


A Princess of the Orient 


most slow of all was she to fully realize this marriage of her 
sweet companion to Mordane. 

Upon this same moment Theron had entered this garden 
with the most attractive lady and a lovely companion. In 
whose society Theron seemed most happy. 

This beautifully gowned lady was leaning quite lovingly 
upon the arm of Theron. And. Upon entering this garden 
his ever ready eye detected the form of Lady Vivian as she 
reclined all but hidden beneath the green fan like leaves of 
this magnificent palm. Theron smiled. 

He sought a bench very close to Lady Vivian. The bench 
he selected stood beneath a large climbing rose harbor which 
was a profusion of blossoms. And near. Very near to the 
bench upon which Lady Vivian reclined. 

Ah! Marietta, what a superb rose! Exclaimed he as his 
eyes fell upon a full blown rich rose of the colour red. His 
companion turned in admiration of the rose. 

Beautiful, Theron. And so perfect are its pedals, she re- 
sponded. 

Then Theron reaching high plucked the rose and presented 
it to Marietta. 

The lady lifted her coquettish eyes to him. She smiled. 
I thank thee Theron. It is a perfect bloom. And she pinned 
the rose at her throat. And the rose, this captive, nestled 
against the beautiful white throat of Marietta. 

At the sound of these two voices. Lady Vivian sat up- 
right for she recognized both the voices. She felt hopeless 
as she knew she would be compelled to remain there until 
they chose to leave the garden. And their conversation fell 
audibly upon her ear. 

Marietta, spake Theron. Thy unrivaled beauty wreaths 
this entire garden with perfect adornment. While the rose 
is but a dull light in the welkin of thy adorable charms. 

Theron, graciously I thank thee. But me thinks, I have 
been warned against thy flattering tongue. Thou dost know 
I, already know much of thy ways of flattering the fair sex 
with too ready compliments. 

My dear fair lady, doth not flattery bear gently upon 
every lady? 

I trowth it doth play gently upon the heart of the fair sex, 
And as she spake thus, he leaned over her. 

Perchance so! It hath its delightful charm. Upon my 
faith Theron. It should bear harshly upon the dignity of 
the Prince Governor. 


A Princess of the Orient 245 

She glanced at Theron and she raised her eyes with a 
fickleness, then lowered them again, with a vain smile. But 
her eyes were lovely, her smile was sweet. 

Marietta, I speak no flattery. Mine eye doth fall in 
fancy upon thy adorable charms. And what lady would de- 
sire a gentleman to become stolid. So stolid as not to ad- 
mire her cultured beauties. 

Believe me, thy resplendent eyes do light the garden with 
all brightness. With a most alluring adornment. 

A sweeping surge, a giddy feeling possessed Theron at this 
minute and he held this vain and flirting coquette in his 
arms. Showering kisses upon her. 

Not well done Theron answered Marietta, pushing him 
aside with dignity. 

Now. Really thou hast wafted into the wanton spirit of 
the occasion. For all is love here tonight. Joy is soaring 
far and near. Flattery descends from even the fragrance of 
the roses. The world is but one day, to night. For the 
world dost always drink to a blushing bride. To a happy 
bridegroom. 

It is not a wonder that this atmosphere doth capture the 
inmost fancies in beautiful ideals. It doth open some secret 
spring within the hidden Soul. 

Fanciful 1 laughed Theron as he threw back his head. His 
laugh being not becoming and his teeth showed niggardly. 
He continued. 

The Muses in the heavens above Egypt do breathe not a 
more divinely picture. 

This is in truth Love’s hour in the Muse’s bower. And 
naught else dare venture for a kiss, and so saying he caught 
her in his arms again and kissed her, as he whispered into 
her ear. I am the bee, thou art the Jessamine flower! One 
more kiss. Still another, a thousand kisses of bliss. 

And once. Twice. Then again. And many times he 
kissed the pretty mouth of the fair Marietta. 

She drew away from him, and she laughed. 

Theron, let us go back to the guests, she replied lightly. 

My dear Marietta, as she bowed a curtsey before him. Is 
it necessary that we go back into the crowded court? Then, 
the most usual of all events, even at a marriage feast is a 
little pleasure. Then a shadow. 

Theron what has caused a shadow? 

My mind this moment dwelt upon my comrade M. Cleve- 
lande. For he remained away from the feast tonight. 


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A shadow caused the lady to pout her pretty lips. 

Then, doth he bear his sorrow in lonely solitude? 

Perchance. And he is much disconsolated. 

And the Princess Roxana. We all miss her I am sure of 
it. How is it with thee Theron? And she raised her eyes 
in questioning glance. 

Nonsense, Marietta. This question is upon the lips of 
the gossip. 

The Princess. I like her. Yeal I love her. Nay I 

The coquette drew closer to him. 

It doth seem to be the selected privilege of man to toy 
with the pretty fancies of a woman. Just as thou hast toyed 
with the Princess! 

He moved uneasily. 

And that accusation is but violent scandal, my dear. I 
might trace this bit of scandal to the jealous mind of some 
of the fair sex. Why dost thou not know. That Canterre, 
the man of the hour is the sworn lover 'of the Princess? 

Theron spake distinctly, keeping his head turned in the 
direction of the Lady Vivian. 

A sudden stir from behind the rose harbor caused them 
both to glance around. 

It is nothing, my dear. A gentle breeze stirring the leaves 
of the bush. 

And then they continued their conversation. 

Lady Marietta’s eyes become animated as she listened to 
this scandal. 

Marietta as I was returning from the Convent last week. 
Who dost thou think I met just as I was departing from the 
Convent? 

I could never. Never guess Theron. Who? 

Canterre! Then I turned back again in a moment, after 
having met him without. And I come suddenly upon him 
again. This time he stood with a wee babe nestling in his 
arms. And by his side stood the Princess. Rather. The 
White Sister Esther. 

Theron hesitated with a satisfaction while she was startled 
by this scandal which told much. 

Theron, but thou must be cautious with this tale upon thy 
lips. For thou may be in error. 

Nay! I remained wholly unnoticed near the chamber in 
the Convent where they stood. I could plainly see that Can- 
terre clasped this babe with a fondness. He caressed it with 


A Princess of the Orient 


247 


a pride and the Princess who stood beside him. Her face 
was flushed with joy. And she smiled with a happy smile. 

Now as he related this malicious scandal in lie, to his love- 
ly companion, he laughed. But she looked aghast. 

Theron, what a bit of gossip. I prythee do not carry this 
tale farther. Certainly, after all. One can never be too cau- 
tious even in the society of the court ladies. Thinkst thou 
Theron? 

Quite true. Marietta. But what are the guests departing? 
Is it really so late an hour? Upon me faith, thy charming 
society hath challenged the hours of the night. For mark 
ye, the hour is past mid-night. 

True, Theron the gong doth strike the early morning. 
Then we too must go. 

I trowth, the memories of this hour in this beautiful gar- 
den will forever remain a sweet memory, my dear Marietta 
spake Theron as they passed on. Out of the garden into the 
Courts. 

Any further conversation was lost to Lady Vivian. She 
plainly saw the face of Theron as he passed so close to where 
she was reclined, and he wore the tint of a flaming revenge 
upon his countenance. But. Within he wore a guilt. One 
which Lady Vivian could not see. Neither could she hear 
its words. Fool! Thou art flirting with thy own damnation. 

She arose indignantly and sped swiftly away. 

Upon this night. Far upon the bay, out into the silvery 
moonlight. When the palace was abounding in brilliant 
pleasures. There sat a man with bowed head. He sat within 
a gondola and by his side. Near to his bent form was a 
beautiful creature. And she was called. Macchantia. 

Luxurious Macchantia with her olive skin, her black hair 
and with two large eyes that sparkled brighter than two stars 
in a mid-night blue sky. 

Macchantia the divine enchantress 1 And daughter of the 
extensive, the powerful date grove owner. And this girl was 
known to every person in Cairo. Her beauty was praised. 
Her weakness was favoured. 

Upon this night in the rays of the moon’s direct soft light, 
she made a beautiful picture. A picture that would have 
thrilled a gentleman with a fire. But. M. Clevelande, who 
sat by her side. Was indifferent. His eyes were lifted above 
this pretty face and her low voice waned in its otherwise 
charm. 

M. Clevelande, my gallant hero of my dreams of love. My 


248 


A Princess of the Orient 


most extravagant love dreams. O gods in the heavens above 
us! My heart doth throb with such a vicious love for thee. 
And for thee alone, my beloved. I love thee. And in my love. 
So different from that of any girl in Cairo. Be she of Royal 
birth, be she of the peasant’s cottage house. In my heart’s 
love there lingers a danger. At times my brain is fired with 
a madness. Jealousy? Perhaps so. And in this madness I 
could kill thee. And call thee still mine own in death. Ah! 
My beloved kiss me. Hold me close within thy arms. 

And the girl flung herself into the languid arms of her 
companion. 

She kissed his eyes. She soothed his knitted brow. And 
cried in wildest tones. My beloved. Mine! For the gods 
have given thee for mine own pleasure. And. I defy the 
whole of this Orient to claim thee from me. 

And the gondola lazily cruised upon the downward course 
of the rippling waters. The music grew faint. More faint. 

Lo! It had ceased in its harmonious tones. 

The youths who were seated in this gondola, with M. 
Clevelande and Macchantia, layed their instruments to their 
sides. 

They whispered to one another. Who could but shend a 
pity with disgust as well? 

It is the opium! Poor victims both! And they lowered 
their voices to a whisper. But the stupified pair dreamed on. 

Gorgeously their dreams. And beautiful. For they dwelt 
within a fairy bower of love. With Macchantia the Queen 
who knighted M. Clevelande her King! 

And the moonlit gondola with its red and green lanterns 
hanging in the stripped awning canopy floated silently. Dis- 
tantly picturesque ! 

CHAPTER XLI. 

The Speech of Birds. 

The picturesque cliffs of the Mountains of Birds is a part 
of the great slope of the eastern range of Mountains which 
lies beyond the river Nile. And upon the summit of this 
rnountain is a Coptic Convent called the Convent of the Vir- 
gin. The mysticism of this mountain of Birds is centered in 
the belief. That there are seven ways leading from it into 
the eternal life. That is in brief. The seven valleys through 
which the birds travel on their way to the fabulous phcenix, 
literally, thirty birds in which all except thirty succomb, are 
the seven stations of the mystic road. That leads from earth- 
ly troubles into the much coveted Nirvana. This temple, 


A Princess of the Orient 


249 


low and plain was decorated with carvings of the numerous 
designs. The most conspicuous design was the papyrus 
flower and the bud of the lotus. 

And these were carved in wood and severely they bordered 
the interior of the temple in a conventional line. A huge 
image of the Hoopoe was perched over the low door-way. 
Numerous weird objects in such queer oriental designs were 
upon the walls. And verses. Oracles’ verses. Some in 
Egyptian cypher and a few in script were inscribed upon the 
tinted walls. 

One of these verses found there was the following. 

The lights in the skies wilt guide thee I 

In another remote corner, taken from the legend of Jason 
and Medea. Was a flaming scene painted in brilliant colours. 
The Sun. The ram with the golden fleece flying through the 
air to the land of once setting and of rising sun. There he is 
painted sacrificed on the shore in the flaming fire of sunset. 
His skin is hung upon the tree of the nightly heavens and 
guarded by the envious power of the dragon. 

Over the doorway of the temple was inscribed another 
verse motto. And. It read. 

The morning sun never lasts a day! 

Then there was the horse shoe arch decorated and con- 
ventionalized in foilage. Which was finished with exquisite 
patterns in the decoration of the Oriental florid qualities 
predominating. 

Now. A caste of people were assembled there in prayer. 

Within one corner, in the niche decorated for prayer and 
worship. In the direct center of this niche was a formation 
for ablutions. Surmounted by a dome and near unto it was 
a pulpit, before which a wooden desk for readers was 
builded. Worshippers came and went to and from this 
temple. In great numbers upon this day. 

Now it was that Lady Vivian was passing this mountain 
slope. Upon a morning following a sleepless night. 

She reclined herself. Languidly. Upon a rustic bench 
just within a thick cactus hedge. She sat watching these 
faithful religious people. In their devout worship. And her 
mind being dull she fell into a reverie. 

From the distant. Though miles away she could 
hear the bells of the Convent of the Christians. Ringing in 
their distinct and clear peals. Low and soft they rang. And 
she thought of the Princess Roxana. And too. There was 
something in the echoes of these bells that drooped Lady 


250 


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Vivian into a silent wretchedness. Sitting there. She traced 
in the white sands beneath her dainty booted feet. An out- 
line of her sentiments. And the sentiments given expression 
to by Socrates. That. “Love is a madness, but it is a noble 
madness as is shown by the Sooth Sayer.” 

Her mind dwelt upon the worth of this phrase as she re- 
mained in this languishment of retreat. Undisturbed, 
Abruptly she looked up and in the distant she beheld a monk 
robed in brown woolen stuff with white cord and tassel. 

And his feet were in brown sandals. Upon his head he 
wore a brown cap. 

This monk come from the temple. He slowly climbed 
down the steep face of the mountain by a ragged dizzy path. 
And diving into the waters of a stream. Which coursed in 
an irregular stream below, he swam to a canoe bearing sev- 
eral men. Of these men he appeared to be begging alms. 

Lady Vivian marveled at the fidelity of these monks in 
their life of seclusion and denial. 

She turned and looked about her, as if to banish the sight 
of this queer individual. 

Linnets sang clearly. In a mangled clump of sweet egal- 
tine. She heard the melodious song of the pretty lark. Far 
in a distant mountainside on beyond. She could see the 
peasants toiling in their little plots of land. One peasant 
was hoeing the ground. Another followed this one peasant 
closely for he was sowing the seed. And after these two fol- 
lowed another. He drove goats, with long white hair. These 
goats were driven over the fields to trod down this seed. At 
the end of each row in the field she could distinguish each 
fellah halted and stooping to the ground, lifted a goat skin 
bottle and what could be its contents but somna? 

Each guest drank ravishingly of the somna. Guests of 
the fields — these fellahs. 

Lady Vivian rested herself by leaning back against the old 
wooden bench. A imperturbable serenity stilled the sur- 
roundings quite suddenly, and thus she drunk in the glories 
of the rural fields. 

The radiant sun. The scented zephyrs capering from the 
blossomed poppy fields. And the song birds all. It seemed 
that was perfume. That floated round her, and she passed 
into the spirit of Nature’s touch as the all chanting carols 
lulled her to a fancy idyl. 

The time wore on. And after a slight repose. She arose, 
leaving this picturesque garden of the convent and she 


A Princess of the Orient 251 

walked briskly. Choosing the pathway shortest that which 
led back into the City. Only once did she stop. And then. 
She come upon a garden in which a part of it was a blooming 
mass of lilacs. These hardy bushes were heavy with darkest 
green foilage. And laden with beautiful. In delicate and 
in darkest shades of the purple lilac. She stood looking at 
these tall and short bushes. Burying her face in a cluster 
here, admiring a blossom there. Then she gathered a large 
armful of the clusters. In gathering these blossoms she suf- 
fered the bushes to a loss. 

But, how she loved the heavy clusters of the pretty 
flowers! And as they lay in her arms, their richly scented 
perfume filled her with a delightful sensation. 

She walked briskly on into the city and a picture for the 
artists brush was she. 

The artist would have painted a lady with a scarlet robe 
and a lovely face peering from an armful of purple and 
lavender lilacs. 

While the poet would have penned. 

Beauty, Hope, Love, Life and bright gladness — ’Tis 
Venus running away! 

And in her path, a perfume reeked the woolands for in 
her arms — The lilacs lay! 

Upon this morning Theron was much perplexed. He read 
again. He discussed with his courtiers the herald which the 
Persian Shah had delivered unto him. That the bonds of 
the Irrigation Squares could not be disposed of in Persia. 

This concise herald coming from the Shah measured fail- 
ure to Theron’s party. It capped the failure for him and 
likewise a victory for the reformation. 

And more. The treaty of commerce between Persia and 
Egypt; that which he had planned to make. By virtue of 
threat. That of holding the Princess Roxana from Persia. 
This was a second failure. 

This. The largest hope of his party. The scheme where- 
by they could call in this greatly enormous sum of money. 
It was lost. And their machine had worked to this end. But 
it was a fruitless and a false stroke. 

Inwardly. Theron now nutured only a hope. A small 
hope that his party could win. While Canterre was moving 
slowly. Steadily to success. He had rapidly gathered a 
brilliant cortege of public spirited men of both the commer- 
cial world, and the great scholars, including astronomers. 
And these astronomers were held in the greatest reput in 


252 


A Princess of the Orient 


Egypt. From the field of numerous controversies these as- 
tronomers were called with their science to sustain or to re- 
fute nearly all great movements. In the affairs of the learned 
people of Cairo. 

As Theron sat with his brow knitted in this consternation, 
Lady Vivian entered this chapel, wherein he sat. 

A thought. Perhaps far from the natural conscience of 
Lady Vivian, prompted her to approach him. 

Love bearing the theme of golden dreams? she exclaimed 
in a cheerful voice. 

Theron turned in surprise. 

Ah! Vivian, ’tis thee! I am pleased to greet thee, my 
dear. And to what am I grateful for this visit, my sweet Vi- 
vian. And he stood before her admiring her as she stood 
with her arms filled with lilacs. 

Gods! What a picture! Where didst thou gather those 
beautiful flowers? 

And speaking thus. He leaned over her, and buried his 
face in the fragrant lilacs. 

Are they not pretty, Theron? I was returning from a 
morning walk. The air is most invigorating this morning. 
And I felt the charm of the crisp fresh air. 

Then, my dear, thou hast visited the Convent of the 
Christians? 

A peculiar gleam in his eye disquieted her. But she 
answered him frankly. 

Quite true Theron. I did visit the Convent, but it was the 
Convent on the Mountain of Birds. 

That Convent? he exclaimed. What a fancy! To tread 
those ragged mounts in that forsaken and most hidden part 
of the country. I ween it a most silly notion, my dear. 
What was thy pleasure in going there? 

In that thou art much mistaken Theron. There are many 
beauties in the wilds of that rural country. And hidden — 
only, perhaps from the vulgar tread of commercial life. But 
in the lap of Nature. With Nature’s greetings in such natur- 
al elegance upon every side of the paths. 

As she spoke her words and manner charmed Theron. 
Both her blandly polite manner and her pleasant words. 

But why didst thou choose than Convent, dear Vivian? 
Then has the Convent of the Christians lost all favour with 
thee? And Theron smiled while she thought it a mean 
smile. She flushed hotly and scorned him with a severe 
glance. 


A Princess of the Orient 253 

Theron thou art in not all too goodly spirits this cheery 
day. Is there anything unusual in my going into that part 
of the country? The country site of the Convent on the 
Mountain of Birds? 

Perchance not so! answered Theron. I just now passed 
the way of the Convent of the Christians, and I was strange- 
ly suspicious as I met Canterre upon his way to the Con- 
vent. He was bent towards the Convent and his step was 
brisk. In truth, what strange inclination to wish to visit 
these dull and lifeless places. 

Now as Theron hesitated and laughed curtly. She 
straightened herself before him but remained silent. 

Vivian my dear, I trowth Canterre must be strangely in- 
toxicated with a desire for the serious life. And when? I 
ween it is not of long standing that he come so suddenly into 
this broad charity. Upon me faith I never knew him to be so 
inclined. I was astonished to learn too. That our beautiful 
Princess Roxana had become one of these white Sisters. 
Can ever such an act explain itself to thy mind? 

Lady Vivian remained sullenly quiet and he attempted to 
persuade her more with his words. 

The Princess, the spoiled beauty and the luxurious lady of 
the Orient. The rose lady of the court to be a white sister. 
I trowth there is a hidden meaning in it all. For it doth not 
sound well. The Princess hath surely changed her robe of 
gold cloth and the crimson for a gown of somber shade. 

Whereupon Theron flung his head back and laughed. 

Vivian, when I questioned her, her only answer was this. 
“My heart is full. Vows were made to me.” 

Enough Theron. Thy words become ill, a gentleman. 
Thou settest out badly as the Prince Governor of Cairo. 
Surely. Thy unclean morals have rocked thee into an in- 
sensability of an honourable citizen. And thy attack upon 
the religious sentiment of any people or peoples remains an 
atrocious attack. 

I beg thy goodly pardon, Vivian I spake in truth of my 
thoughts. 

Then thou dost seek to avenge thyself with the goodly 
name of the Princess. 

Baffle! The goodly name of the Princess! As for it all. 
Were it truly a religious belief that led the Princess into this 
isolated life? Preposterous. 

In truth, it might serve well, a balm for her bruised heart 
and a tonic for her love sick Soul. 


254 


A Princess of the Orient 


Lady Vivian glanced upon the insignificant face of the 
speaker. A look nearly akin to pity swept over her face. 
And then all words sunk in silent contempt. 

I trowth, my dear. Thou knowst I am learning the game. 
I have come to know. Politics. And love. Are sworn ene- 
mies. The meanest enemies. 

What an expression, Theron. 

Surely. Thou hast become my enemy. Thy love is the 
hardest enemity that which works against my success. 

Theron thou art but a coxcomb, she replied putting up her 
hand in an indifferent gesture. 

Rather speaking dear. Thy judgement keenly determined. 
I believe we were speaking of the Princess. 

Thou wouldst act in goodly wisdom. Were we to discon- 
tinue this topic, Theron. 

But he would not so easily dismiss the topic and in a curi- 
ous way he tossed his head. He smiled a contemptuous 
smile. And he begain in cutting words. 

The love between the Princess and Canterre can not be 
acknowledged. Thou may be prone to accept this fact but 
it remains true, my dear Vivian. And he was bending for- 
ward. 

The King doth favour Canterre’s platform. Likewise 
Canterre dare not refuse the hand of the lovely daughter to 
the King. Canterre, the man of the hour is a diplomat! Ah! 
My dear, many. And curious tales are upon the lips of all 
Cairo. Ye gods! How ill it doth become Canterre. O, 
take fast hold, my dear. For this scandal is everywhere. 

And Vivian, it is only thy faith alone that is fixed upon 
the man. 

She turned upon him. 

Theron I should not have come here this morning. It re- 
mains that only the noble hearted can be a friend. The 
mean can never know the value of friendship. Such friend- 
ship as is vested in this friendship existing between Canterre 
and the Princess. And the Princess contains a thankful 
heart. 

Now a piercing pain thrilled Theron. Whereupon he 
answered her. 

The fatal shadows walk by the side of Canterre still. He 
forgets because he would. And the world remembers be- 
cause it will. For the evil man does lives with him. And af- 
ter him. 

And too Theron. I prythee do not forget. The good man 


A Princess of the Orient 255 

does rises with the morning Sun. It labours with him, while 
the Sun is done. And after. For the moon lights the heavens 
while the gods gaze and chant his reward! And thus, she 
left Theron standing alone. 

CHAPTER XLII. 

A New Government. 

Cairo was keenly astir in this political hour. It was elec- 
tion day in the city. Excitement, enthusiasm and interest 
fired every person. 

The Prince Governor M. Theron sat in his office chapel. 
And Canterre sat in his office chapel. 

The precincts had nearly all been heard from. 

Canterre’s managers read with dismal dread, the returns. 
They learned the defeat of their machine might come about. 
As the heavy vote counted heaviest up to this time for 
Theron. 

And Theron ’s manager naturally felt gloriously gratified as 
they received the returns. They would have felt a certain 
victory. Had it not been for the fact. That the King had 
declared himself for the reform platform. This alone would 
win the election for Canterre. And this. Theron’s man- 
agers knew well. 

The hours drew on and the critical hour was upon them. 
A heralder swung into Theron’s private chapel. 

A report from all the outlying districts had been heard. 
And in this report from these committeemen came Theron’s 
defeat. 

Theron sat there with stony stare. He brushed his hair 
away from his forehead. He run his fingers through his hair. 
This a favoured gesture of Theron when disturbed. His 
eyes become blurred and nearly inflammed with excitement. 
Now his hopes like his ambitions lulled sunk. And he paced 
the floor turning from side to side in his office. Much did he 
resemble a mad man. 

He would admit no one into his private office where he 
sat alone for nearly an hour. One long hour filled to its ca- 
pacity with disappointment. And with the fallen hope of a 
defeated candidate. 

Then. The nauseating duty by the hand of fellow 
courtesy! He. Theron must scribe the congratulatory her- 
ald unto Canterre. The in-coming Prince- Governor of their 
city. 

Damnation defeat! Cried Theron as he whirled around 


256 


A Princess of the Orient 


in his swinging chair at his desk. And the bitterness of his 
heart swelled and his hand trembled. 

He scribed then the congratulatory herald. This he hav- 
ing done, he commissioned a scribe to deliver the missive 
into the hands of Canterre. 

The cunning fingers of Theron would scribe more. Had 
he dared. Restlessly. He opened the jug of wine which 
stood locked within the cabinet nearest to the wall. And he 
partook of a full goblet of the somna, and in another follow- 
ing moment. In a fit of agitation he lighted the bowl of his 
pipe. He smoked. Puffing viciously. And he sat buried in 
this smoke. He clenched his fists in disappointed madness. 
And he uttered vulgar oaths as he sat alone. 

Upon this same hour. Canterre within his office was sur- 
rounded by friends. He received countless congratulatory 
heralds. Among the first was the one scribed by the hand 
of the King. It bore the royal seal. 

Canterre himself constrained, with his usual calmness sat 
at his desk. His one hope realized. Cairo was to have the 
reform platform. 

He had won and as he sat there, from without he could 
catch the noise and confusion of the city in her new ambition. 

Upon this night of the same day. The demonstration in 
the town districts, the street parades of the red fire and the 
music was lively. The people thronged all the streets and 
upon every corner stood groups of merry makers. 

At every flash of Canterre’ picture upon the canvass. The 
noisy cheers were most deafening. In all. This was a truly 
coloured political demonstration. Such as Cairo had not 
witnessed for many years. 

All Cairo was wild and she was gripped in the grasp of re- 
joicings! 

The reform platform was established at last. 

Another heart rejoicing upon this night was that of Lady 
Vivian. She had anxiously watched the election returns 
from the chapel of the King’s Court. 

For therein the returns were received by special communi- 
cation to the King and his cabinet. 

When the final returns came to the King’s Court chapel 
declaring Canterre’s victory. It was then. She slipped quiet- 
ly away. Into her own chamber. And there she threw her- 
self upon a cushioned divan and buried her face in both her 
hands. She wept. For an inmost delightful sensation filled 
her and thrilled her with happy thoughts. 


A Princess of the Orient 


257 


And she sobbed. For her Soul was touched by tha 
answer of her heart’s desire. She lifted her face. And this 
lovely face was stained and still wet with tears. She lifted 
her face for it seemed there was an inhaling strenght breath- 
ing over her. Every breathe seemed soft blown from her 
stirred soul within. A tender love poised in hauteur still 
clinging to warm her bitter word. 

Theron was no more! His power in Cairo was done! 

And the laughters from the lips of Lady Vivian were 
spasmodic. 

CHAPTER XLIII. 

Picture Writing. A Picture With A Moral. 

‘‘If when the Prophesie begins to look like truth 

You will adhere to me, it shall make honour for you.” 

Macbeth. Act II. 

Now is the time, Princess Roxana. I could no longer con- 
strain myself. It was the rich voice of Canterre. 

Canterre what news? What mission hast fetched thee 
hence in such haste? 

The Princess scanned the strong face of Canterre as she 
spake. 

There was something wonderful there. And she saw it. 
She laid her hand upon his strong arm. 

Then Canterre it is of the election? Thou art the newly 
made Prince Governor of Cairo for I see it in thy face. It 
can be no other way. 

And Canterre smiled triumphantly. So it is Princess. 
Yestern day was the election day, And. I am upon the mor- 
row the newly elected Prince Governor. 

My congratulations, Canterre. This doth please me much. 

I trowth it doth please me more than any person in Cairo. 

Yea. I thank thee Princess. I have some other news for 
thee Princess, and I must speak with thee, alone. 

As he glanced about them, she lifted her eyes in a ques- 
tioning glance. 

There is no one to disturb us Canterre. We are quite 
alone. 

He took her hand and led her to a wooden bench. 

This bench represented the only comfort in this cold 
barren chamber. As it were. And little comfort did it af- 
ford. The statues, the verse mottoes hanging upon the walls 
were the only ornaments, and they charmed not the eye of 
the casual visitor. Candle holders holding white candles. 


258 


A Princess of the Orient 


Plainly constructed book cases filled with serious reading, 
were the only fixtures within sight of the eye. 

As they were reclined upon this bench. Canterre shud- 
dered as he looked about in this comfortless hard chamber. 

Roxana thou knowst little of the childhood days of thy 
early youth, faltered he looking anxiously at her. 

She started a hot flush followed by a pale overspread her 
face and neck. 

She answered him slowly and in doubt. 

What is it, thou would know of my youth Canterre? Of 
my youth. There was naught to relate. It was free. Peut- 
etre, thou dost speak of my life just past and here in Cairo? 

Whereupon a pained look shadowed her face while he 
grasped the meaning of her slowly spoken words. And in a 
sullen fit of inward anger he clinched his fists. She under- 
stood his movement. Then with compressed lips he an- 
swered her. 

Of thy life in Cairo? Nay. Speak of the days of thy 
early youth. Of thy life in Persia. 

How can I remember much of my early childhood days? 
As a child I recall. I spent with my father, the Persian Shah. 
We resided within his large palace. 

Thy father? 

My father Canterre. With my father alone. My mother 
left me in my infancy. I knew no other companion but he. 
Ah! a princely companion too. 

A tear stole down the cheek of the Princess and she 
brushed it away quickly. She looked up through her tears. 

Thou knew no other companion? 

None. I wished for none. My father was my world. And 
the child’s world is a large world too! In my world of hun- 
dreds of Kings, Princes and Knights. My father was al- 
ways my princely companion. We traveled, played. We 
rejoiced. We dined, we resided together. 

The return of a childish smile as it played upon her face 
struck the heart of Canterre. 

And there was none other? 

A shadow quickly chased away the innocent smile of child- 
ish memories. 

But, why dost thou ask such a question of me? 

Upon this Canterre was pleased and he thought, a lover 
by chance. But he said nothing. 

Why Canterre? 


A Princess of the Orient 


259 


Didst thou not have an aged servant. Who watched over 
thee in thy youth? The same as a father could have done? 

She bent her head in study, then si^ddenly she lifted it. 

Solas! But it has been years since I have had news of 
him. Indeed. Faithful and true was this aged servant. And 
a Jew. 

Canterre staggered upon his feet. And pressing the palm 
of his hands over his eyes. He stood speechless. 

Canterre, she cried. Thou art ill? The warm air in the 
hall dost stifle thee! 

Nay, Princess. And he dropped upon the bench once 
more. 

’Twas nothing. I pry thee continue. 

Then she continued. Solas! I wonder what has befallen 
him. He was faithful. 

Princess I have learned that this aged Jew. The one for 
whom Lady Vivian tendered such care. It was Solas. 

The Princess white and trembling looked strangely upon 
Canterre’s face. 

Solas? This sick Jew? The same? It is impossible. But 
Canterre how can this be true and who related this story to 
thee? 

It was Solas. By his own lips he hath revealed his idenity 
unto me. 

Canterre I pry thee. Go thou at once. Fetch him here, 
she exclaimed. 

Too late Princess. Solas passed away. Several days ago. 

Had I but known it, exclaimed the Princess with tears 
trickling down her face. 

Princess. And more too he related. For he recalled there 
was an old French King who was captive in a foreign dun- 
geon. Nearly ill unto death. The officers of the Persian 
Shah rescued this King in a nearly dying condition. With 
this King was an infant daughter. A mere child. And the 
Shah by virtue of some boyhood bonds of friendship saved 
the French King. He delivered this King, with the child into 
Persia. They began this long journey. Just before this 
Shah’s train reached the province of the Shah. The French 
King passed away. His body was sunken into the tombs and 
the Shah bore the orphan child with him. This little girl 
he grew very fond of. He nutured her in every extravagance 
and in many luxuries. She soon become the petted beauty of 
the Persian Court. 

And there was a servant called Solas. But he drifted away. 


260 


A Princess of the Orient 


Solas! The Persian Shah? And the Princess stood 
breathless. 

This orphan child is the Princess Roxana of the Royal 
House of Persia. 

Canterre, then I am not daughter to the Shah? I am 
daughter to this French King? 

All true Princess. 

Then this French King? And the Queen, my mother? 

They have both passed away. 

Now a deadly silence fell upon them. 

Princess. There was a brother. And he smiled as he 
heard a long breathe. 

A brother Canterre? Speak thou quicke. That I may go 
to him. This brother dost he live? Dost he reside in 
France? Thank the gods! A brother. Then I shall go to 
him at once. But nay. Not that either. 

And a shadow passed over her bright face. 

Nay Canterre. Not that. I can not leave the Convent. I 
prythee, Reach my brother and fetch him here to me. 

A brother! And I have been so much alone in this large 
world. My heart has been hungry for a brother. And I 
knew it not. Ah! Canterre I thank thee. I thank thee. 

Roxana. Behold thy brother. 

Thou? Canterre my brother? And a multitude of words 
choked the Princess. She stared blankly into his face and 
he opened his arms to her. 

She went to him and he held her fast in a tender embrace. 
Then. Slowly she released herself from his embrace and she 
looked into his earnest eyes. Long. Then a smile fell upon 
her face. 

Roxana my little Sister. Now thou dost know all. 

And it is most meet. I should know. To find myself in 
the fond possession of one of the most precious of earthly 
gifts. I. So much alone in the world. 

And now Roxana we can not possibly remain longer in 
Cairo. 

Canterre! 

Nay Sister. I entered Cairo en route to Persia to find 
thee. And by providence I have halted here. I have had 
the goodly fortune to find thee here. And my little Sister. 
A finely found treasure. It doth glad my seeking heart. 

Brother mine, thou wouldst not leave Cairo now? For 
thou art the Prince Governor of Cairo. And I too. Must re- 


A Princess of the Orient 261 

main in Cairo. My life belongs to the Convent. I have 
sworn my vows unto my God. 

Not so, Sister. We needs must return into France. Im- 
mediately. 

France? exclaimed the Princess. 

Quite truly. And rightly. Much depends upon my re- 
turning there. Much more depends upon thy restoration in 
France. 

But Canterre. I can not leave this convent*, insisted the 
Princess. 

An heiress to the French Crown can not leave the isolated 
Convent of the Christians in Egypt? Foolish! I say Roxana. 

An heiress, Canterre? 

Thou art indeed an heiress. Heir to thy father’s crown. 
We. Thee and me. Have also an elder brother who is now 
the reigning King in France. 

Another brother? Oh! Glorious inheritance! 

One other brother Louis. He is ill. Ill unto his death. He 
is stricken. And can not long survive the fatal malady that 
which is upon him now. 

Thou Roxana will be the next heir. His surviving heir. 
Therefore. Behold in the Princess Roxana. We pay homage 
to the future Queen of France. 

And he bowed before her, while she threw her arms around 
his neck. 

My vows are made to consecrate my life to my Master, 
she replied revently. 

Those vows must thou sever. Sister. A Crown. The 
Crown of France awaits thy coming. Makst thou ready. For 
we return into France within a fortnight. And Canterre 
forced a ready response from her. 

I can not, meekly answered the Princess. 

Thou must do it. Foolishly stubborn woman! Thinkst 
thou of thy own father’s people! The people are now call- 
ing thee. Their Queen. 

Thinkst thou of thy father who doth lie deep within the 
tombs in Persia lands. 

What me thinks. Wouldst thou cause him to lift his 
finger in disappointed scorn to a faithless daughter? Thou 
wouldst be traitoress against thy own people? And for a 
strange people! Couldst thou rest content in such disloyalty? 

Fie! Sister the great French blood surging thy veins. It 
doth speak. It must speak and move thee forward. 

These words of Canterre fired her. For coming from the 


262 


A Princess of the Orient 


heart it went to the heart. And as Bernice’s locks 1 A ra- 
diant light haloed upon the heads of brother and sister, as 
they stood thus. 

It was the golden mean of loyalty! 

Princess Roxana held the hand of Canterre in a firm hand 
clasp. 

She threw back her head proudly. She lifted her face 
to him and looking into his earnest eyes she said. 

Welcome my brother. Welcome, my Countryman! Wel- 
come! I go into France, I come to answer thy call. 

And the ambition of a deeply agitated life echoed in sor- 
row and submission! 

CHAPTER XLIV. 

The Council Convenes. 

The council chamber was filled, every bench being occu- 
pied in the event of the inaugural ceremonies of the Prince 
Governor of the City. A great mass of people surged to and 
from the chapel. Wherein the inauguration took place. 

A band which played popular music was in place near the 
platform. The platform was decorated with yellow and 
green flags. At the appointed time. Canterre was escorted 
through this crowd of people and led to the platform. Cheers 
mid cheers greeted him as he stood upon the platform and 
took the oath of office. 

Canterre delivered his speech. A speech full of striking 
imagery and striking eloquence. 

At the conclusion of the short ceremonies the band played 
Oriental music as Canterre was retiring from the platform, 
going into his own office chapel. The throng of people dis- 
persed and the streets were clearing. 

Upon this same hour. Lady Vivian who remained within 
her own chamber was greatly rejoicing. She was reclining 
upon a divan with her face bent with her gaze upon the 
leopard skin upon which her dainty feet rested. She sat si- 
lent. Her lips parted in slow motion and in low toned words. 

Canterre! Canterre has won ! Ah! The days. The hours 
I have petitioned the gods for this victory. And now? Thou 
Canterre who belongs to me hast given thyself to my people. 
Didst not Heaven give thee for me? And in this great hour 
see how my people rejoice in their claiming thee. 

She put her hands over her eyes. 

Gods, what have I done? I have prayed for thy success. 
The people, they claim thee now and dost not thy Soul be- 


A Princess of the Orient 


263 


long to me? It is mine. Ah I I love thee, my dear Canterre. 
I love thee! And. I desire thee. Come! 

She slipped upon the leopard skin at her feet. Her face 
lifted up above everything. And she prayed. A prayer. 
Such a prayer is sealed for the gods, alone. Then she smiled. 
The suffering heart makst the Soul great. 

Suddenly she was startled for surely a rustle. A noise fell 
upon her ears. 

A stir. A light quicke footstep. The heavy velvet carpet 
muffled the step. But her ever ready ear heard its echo. She 
slowly looked about her. Fearing to open her eyes in wide 
gaze. 

Canterre! I knew not thou were here! Thou art welcome. 
Most welcome! And she arose, extended her hand to him 
rather shyly. 

And Canterre. He clasped her slender little hand. He 
touched her soft glossy hair with a light kiss. Then. Tremb- 
ling with blindest emotion he enfolded her within his arms. 
Then as if in conviction. Suddenly. He released her. Quite 
abruptly. 

Vivian my dear. I did not meet with Mauros, therefore I 
dared to enter unannounced. I pry thee forgive my hasty 
steps which may be seemingly bold. 

Nay Canterre. I am greatly delighted to welcome thee, 
here. Thy successes do glad my heart. Thy noble work will 
proud the whole of Cairo. The gods be praised! 

Vivian dearest thou art so serious in thy manner. Me 
thinks such seriousness is not so well from thy sweet and 
natural self. 

And Canterre bent close over her. She attempted to laugh 
lightly and answered him. 

Me thinks Canterre, thou canst at all times resist sorrow. 
For thy Soul is great. Thou art of the greatest. I prythee 
thy pardon for a woman’s weakness. For indeed. I am weak. 

My dear Vivian, givth thy ear. True. I have made glor- 
ious strides. I have won my laurels and they are mighty and 
splendid. And I pray now, that with the reform platform es- 
tablished in thy fair city. Cairo will surely issue forth, in 
progressive strides. And her people will be unbridled by im- 
moral principles. 

Alack! The shadow in the mind of Lady Vivian constant- 
ly dwelt with her. 

She was weak and she lowered her eyes before him. 

Come dearest. I have grave news for thee. 


264 


A Princess of the Orient 


News for me Canterre? Father? 

Nay not of the King, he responded as he led her to a 
divan. The silence which followed was only broken by the 
soft songs of the song birds from the court. For the cur- 
tained window was opened wide. This silence come as a ben- 
ediction. 

He took her hand in his. Enfin it was he spake. And in 
speaking he related the whole story of his idenity. Of the 
Princess, his sister. 

When he had finished he fastened his searching eyes upon 
the face of Lady Vivian. 

She sat unmoved. Silenced and stunned by this sudden 
news. Words failed her and she lifted her dark eyes to him 
but was speechless. 

Vivian, he continued. I entered into Cairo. A stranger. 
Deceiving thy father, the King and assembling friends of 
thy people in a most deceitful method. And. The most 
fatal wrong. I have deceived thee. The fairest of all 
flowers! Thou recallst my arrest my confinement within the 
Saffron prison cell and dungeon? My trial and then my re- 
lease? 

I do Canterre, she answered with slow words and downcast 
eyes. 

And now Vivian. My mission is fulfilled and my purport 
being done. And goodly too. I go to my people. 

She clutched his arm impulsively. 

Surely! Surely thou art now the Prince Governor and it 
will be impossible for thee to go, Canterre. 

Yea. It is possible. It must be possible, my dear. I re- 
sign all for my own people are calling me upon this very 
hour. It is my duty to go back into France. 

Canterre! Do not go. Do not leave me, I pry thee for I 
cannot live without thee. My heart will be broken. 

And she gave vent to a most fearful rage of sentiment. 
She sobbed without speaking. While he leaning over her 
prostrate form gently lifted her into his arms and he held her 
in a passionate embrace. Pouring forth a volley of words; 
such only comes from the lover. 

My darling! Behold it is fate. We. Thee and me, re- 
main powerless against fate. Our God hath given to the Soul 
of man. The promise of the land of the beautiful. And this 
land of beauties, the garden of love. I have entered therein. 
My Soul hast bathed in the nectar of this treasured love. 6 
God! I can not go without thee Vivian. 


A Princess of the Orient 


265 


He faltered as he pressed her to him as if a spasm choked 
his whole being. 

Canterre! she whispered as she pillowed her head upon 
his breast. 

My dear Vivian, thinkst thou I can loose thee? Just as I 
have found thee? My heart’s desire? In finding thee my 
Soul doth rest in its most precious desire. And I will not 
go without thee. 

My father, the King, Canterre. I must not go. I prythee, 
let me do nobly my best. My father is aged and alone. I 
must not go with thee and leave him alone at the end of his 
life, with no one to comfort him in his lonely hours. 

Vivian knowing full well. Life’s deepest meaning, know- 
ing life’s sweetest song of the faithful heart? Then canst 
thou willingly resign both. Thy heart and my heart’s desire 
to this seperation? 

I prythee Canterre. Be silent. I can not hear these 
words. Canst thou not understand? My heart is breaking. 
Even with thee by my side. 

Ah! my precious gift from the gods! Thou art mine and I 
do not intend to leave thee. Come give me thy promise. 
Thou will surely go with me, thy promise? 

Thou will not resign our happiness? 

And the pleading eyes of Canterre pulsated her and it bore 
her off. Who could question what her answer was? 

One hour later Canterre was obliged to leave ; as much as 
he was loth to do so. He must go into his newly court 
chapel. 

Scarcely had he left her chamber when she was in all readi- 
ness to go to the Convent of the Christians for now she had 
the wildest desire to speak with the Princess. As she fastened 
her turbaned hat upon her head and adjusted her face veil 
closely over her face. She wrapped her long mantle snugly 
round her slender figure. Taking her gloves in one hand, her 
walking stick in the other. She tripped gayly into the court 
garden when she was met face to face with Theron. 

She halted with a glance at him. And Theron stood with 
a low bow before her and with a broad smile. 

Greetings! Vivian my dear. Ah! I am delighted to be 
with thee for always the brightness of thy cheery face sheds a 
warm cheer over my dull soul. And, the glances falling from 
those pretty eyes — they descend like the dew, softly. Upon 
thy lips? Joyous songs must be confessed. In faith thou 
art errand bound. I can note it in thy rapid step. 


266 


A Princess of the Orient 


Come, I join thee. For who is he, who would not have a 
sweet lady of his choice garnish his pathway with her fascin- 
ating smiles? 

Lady Vivian stood listening to these utterances from him. 
And he drew nearer. But she stood apart from him. In her 
eyes there blazed a dangerous fire. And steadily it increased 
with a blackness. 

Theron, thy unwisdom can be forgotten only in thy ab- 
sence. I pry thee. Permit me to pass. 

And if I refuse thee my absence, my dear? he answered as 
a contemptuous smile parted his senuous lips. 

I vow that Canterre hast been the heralder of my news, 
for I came to bear the news of the election. Upon me faith 
my footsteps have tarried already too long. 

Theron such imwise deeds and acts as thou hast employed 
is the cause of thy defeat. 

Oh! My lovely lady. Bear more gently with me. For 
now I have another bit of interesting news for thee. 

And if I tell thee. This news, and any news from thy 
lips is disinteresting? 

I grant thee Vivian I will tell thee, at any lenght. It is 
this. The Princess has been permitted to leave the Convent. 
And after having taken her vows too. Methinks this is most 
extraordinary. It must have been some sly coax coming 
from the cunning mind of Canterre. For who in Cairo would 
so desire to deliver the Princess out of the Convent? The 
Prince Governor is endowed with a ruling power now and 
the very desire of his heart remains a sealed order. He doth 
act in wisdom. A large full beginning I trowth. That upon 
the pearly bay of love he drops an anchor. And that from 
the pomegranite’s fields nearest the quaint home of the 
Christian’s Convent. For within this Convent surrounded 
by the pomegranite fields. There doth reside a beautiful 
Princess. One vision of love portrayed in a woman’s form and 
face, thrust from the weaver’s hand of passion designing. 
The gods have breathed this flower encrusted in the web of 
man’s life. In truth. This flower has blown into the heart 
and soul of Canterre. For Canterre remains in the fortunate 
ruling of the gods. The Princess is a golden treasure with 
a heart that is pulsating to love. To love. Swift to passion 
and passions violent. 

Now Theron faltered and Lady Vivian was too full to 
answer him. 

Then as the real truth of the situation. That of the bond 


A Princess of the Orient 


267 


of kinship between the Princess and Canterre came into her 
mind. She threw back her head and the laughter that rippled 
from her lips sunk upon Theron’s heart. 

He leaned forward, and scanned her laughing face. And 
then slowly his face paled. 

Then indeed! In failing to scorn me, thou dost ridicule 
me, Vivian. 

Seekest thou to deceive me? Then thy laughter doth but 
serve better to conceal thy jealousy. 

Theron! Broke from Lady Vivian. Thou art a fool with 
a fool’s ready tongue. Sweet. Bitter. Then in a ready con- 
sent. I- prythee thy passion doth not purify this court one 
whit. 

She drew away from his touch haughtily and he noted her 
manner of recoiling from his hand’s touch. 

My father, doth walk in the garden. Behold he beckons 
me. Permit me to pass, Theron. 

He turned and saw the King in the far court. 

The King! His Majesty! Pardon my stupidity Vivian. 
But to-night, thou must meet me here. Nay. Nearest the 
Bath gardens. 

Theron I have neither desire nor will to be with thee 
more. Therefore I shall not meet thee tonight. 

Rudely he grasped her arm. It will be wise for thee to 
come. And. Unwisely foolish to remain away. It might 
be a virtuous meeting. Refuse and I will dare to spare thee 
nothing. 

Release my hand, Theron. Thou wouldst dare anything. 

And she looked at him and he looked most wicked. 

Give me thy promise. Then. If thou dare to refuse. Then 
thou dost embellish the gossip monger with much. For I will 
spread the gossip far and near. All throughout Cairo. Be- 
hold! O thou of Cairo. Thy King! And who is there among 
the citizens who would dare to raise their voice in honest 
denial, thereof? 

Theron! Not that? I beg of thee. Thou would never 
dare to raise thy voice against the King. It would mean 
thy life. Have a caution lest thou inflict miseries upon thy 
own head. 

Baffle! I know all, scoffed Theron with a merciless laugh. 

She become faint as a helplessness was upon her. Her 
colour came. It went. She breathed painfully and irregu- 
larly. She looked at Theron ; and his eyes knew this haughty 
beauty had transformed into a withered pride. 


268 A Princess of the Orient 

Then. I shall meet thee Theron. In the garden of the Bath 
at twilight. 

He released her hand and with a low bow he was gone. 

He saw her last, leaning upon the arm of the King. As 
they walked without the court. 

Theron laughed a brutish laugh and went his way. Wind- 
ing in and around the court hedges, he disappeared among 
the huge lime-trees which towered over the roadway just 
without. 

And Lady Vivian suffered nutured miseries. And only 
the hour before she had been radiant with joy. When her 
soul had spoken. Of the promised land of beauty and 
kisses! The coming evening hour, what did it conceal? 

CHAPTER XLV. 

A Proclamation. 

I wish to speak with Canterre, spake a low voice. 

And who shall I announce your ladyship? And the at- 
tendant stood before the lady in courteous bow. 

Say unto Canterre. Macchantia daughter of the date 
grower doth wish an interview with him. And that she doth 
bear a goodly herald for him. 

The office attendant announced Macchantia to Canterre. 

A lady awaits thee within the chapel your lordship. 

A lady wishes to speak with me? Asked Canterre. 

Macchantia daughter of the date grower. 

Macchantia? Exclaimed Canterre. And he knitted his 
brow as he remained seated at his desk. 

She doth bear thee a herald, were her words your lordship, 
continued the Scribe. 

She may enter! 

And the visitor walked into the chapel. And Canterre 
looked up from his desk for he was amazed. 

The tall willowy form of the young woman was gracefully 
poised. Her dark red coloured cloak hung open and a robe 
of shimmering green showed in bright colour. Her dark 
glossy hair hung long in two silken braids. She flashed her 
bright eyes upon Canterre as he arose to greet her. 

Greeting your ladyship, Macchantia! I pry thee recline 
thyself upon this bench. And he made a movement to re- 
lieve her of her dainty sun-shade. 

I thank thee, Canterre. Thy graciousness doth bear a 
mighty pleasing welcome. I trowth I do just now. Not in- 
terrupt thee? 


A Princess of the Orient 


269 


I am at thy pleasure Macchantia. May I offer my self in 
a service to thee? 

Macchantia smiled. And this languid smile of the beau- 
tiful girl which was always met with admiration, was not at- 
tractive to Canterre. As he sat studying her little manner- 
isms. 

She arose and approached him, boldly resting her hand 
upon his broad shoulder. And there she stood smiling down 
upon him. 

While he not too gently withdrew from her touch and at 
the same time studying her beautiful but sensual face. Her 
large eyes were very bright as they rested upon him in a 
coquettish glance. But. This type of beauty Canterre re- 
volted against, tremendously. 

I am ready to hear thy herald, Macchantia in rather quick 
tones which startled her. 

Ah! The herald. Upon my faith Canterre thy pardon for 
in thy presence my mind hath stored this herald nearly be- 
yond all recall. 

Then, there is no herald? Abruptly asked Canterre. 

But there is a herald, she responded laughingly. A most 
important herald. But I am weary, for this day has been 
filled with wild adventures. Sport of every kind hath been 
the great temptor this day. A cruise upon the bay. The 
afternoon in the concubine temple. 

He interrupted her. Macchantia I wish to hear thy her- 
ald, since thou art good enough to bear one such to me. 

Then she stole slying to his side. 

Canterre I am weary, I may recline upon thy arm? 

More quicke was he. For when she cunningly gained his 
side, he turned hastily away from her. 

Now the girl stood in this somewhat new position for 
IMacchantia the spoiled beauty. She laughed at the situa- 
tion, with the most vexatious laughter. 

Canterre thou art indeed a gentleman of knightly man- 
ners not to bid me leave this chapel. In this thou dost well, 
most gallant sir. 

And she laughed again in a haunting laughter. While he 
stood impatiently. 

My herald, Macchantia? 

Then Canterre give me thy ear. Tonight at twilight, I 
pry thee. Come thou into the garden of the Bath. For thy 
friend and beloved Lady Vivian doth there hold a secret 
meeting with her lover. And the girl laughed with a vulgar 


270 


A Princess of the Orient 


impudence; he stood staring at her. The look which settled 
upon his face pleased her, much. 

Canterre, time strikes the hour upon a golden gong. Come. 
At twilight into the garden. 

Macchantia stepped closer to him and she patted his cheek 
with her hand. Then with the clinging stride of a tigress 
she sped out of the chapel. At the opening she stopped, and 
she snapped her fingers as she tossed her head and the mer- 
riest laughter broke from her lips. A wicked laughter. Then 
she was gone. 

Canterre stood with his eyes riveted upon the floor. Im- 
patient gestures with a most dreaded fear caused him to 
pace up and down the chapel. 

At last he lifted his face. 

A falsehood! Macchantia was but well indulged in opium 
again. And this is her mad fancy, bourne of the dreams of 
opium. I will think no more of the whole affair. 

And as he spoke he returned to his desk, resuming his 
work. 

Now in the first shades of evening a figure. The figure of 
a woman entered the gate of the garden of the Bath. 

The huge lantern lighted hanging from the gateway lighted 
the face of this figure and it was Lady Vivian. 

She came with a cautious step as she entered the gate and 
looked in all directions. And seeing no one she reclined her- 
self upon or against a bushy hedge. She preferred standing. 

Within she was conscious of a heaviness, and would 
Theron never come? 

Surely the hour was growing very late and it was long 
past the appointed time. 

Could Lady Vivian have seen that upon this same hour. 
Theron with M. Clevelande and the girl Macchantia sat 
within the handsome lodge of Theron in the Concubine 
Temple. 

And Theron did not come into the garden of the Bath. 
He was planning to build a temple. Magnificent and grand 
with the choicest marble; white and wonderous rare. Great 
and strong would be this temple and life within it one glad 
song, where smiles were but moments. And Love the golden 
hours. There would be no aching hearts. Ah! Sorrow would 
be one forbidden guest. All will be extravagant desires and 
he. Theron would be the King with Lady Vivian by his side. 
His Queen. 

And this castle Theron planned as he was reclined within 


A Princess of the Orient 271 

the lodge of the Concubine temple and upon the same hour 
in which Lady Vivian awaited him in the garden. 

And there were Macchantia with M. Clevelande seated 
by his side. 

Ah! Comrades let dull cares, dark sorrow fall vanished. 
Come make merry thy hearts for we live in a glorious world. 

These words of Theron floated merrily from his lips and 
then in a lull. These three companions sunk into the misty 
vapor of long sweeten dreams. While Lady Vivian stood 
waiting in the garden of the Bath and she waited there for 
an hour wLen she slowly retraced her steps. Gladly, yet 
with a peculiar apprehension. As she recalled how Theron 
had threatened her. Why did he do it? 

And now why did he not come? Surely there was a 
trickery hidden. 

Once within her own chapel, she felt a tremor of sadness. 
And too. A safeness and a freedom. Her luxurious and 
dainty appointed chamber so distinctive was a sanctum. 
And the dismal loneliness of the silent gardens with their 
towering posts of glittering marble. Their low hedges of 
bushy shrubbery intercrossed by huge palms. The magnifi- 
cent yet cold fountain and the nearly shrill song of the 
night birds as they hovered in clusters within the tall syca- 
mores. The lonely watch within these surroundings. It was 
overshadowed in this splendid moment. 

Long into the hours of the night she lay restless upon the 
pillow of her bed couch. 

When. The curtained canopy of the bed couch silently 
moved. Lo! The superb trumpet of Morpheus blew its sig- 
nal. The fair lady slumbered. And the silvery brilliant rays 
of the moon descended upon the royal castle, they peeped 
into the window of this fair lady’s abode. 

Her face, the fairness of the lily. Her cheeks the blushes 
of the rose. And the angels in the everywhere, gathered 
around this fair lady and she smiled in her dreams. 

The following day was an important day in the city of 
Cairo. A custom in Cairo had been established. That a 
newly appointed Prince Governor must send a plaque con- 
taining an announcement. To the King and his Privy Coun- 
cil. The plaque was a script table of ivory with raised rims 
inside, where wax was spread over their surface. It being 
made to fold together and the exterior richly ornamented 
with carvings. Upon the cover of this plaque the newly ap- 


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pointed Prince Governor wearing his official cloak was carved 
in distinct outlines. 

Canterre heralded his plaque unto the King. 

Upon the receipt of this plaque, the King issued a procla- 
mation which in part read. 

‘The declaration of the reform platform is made. It be- 
ing duly established under the government of Canterre. Can- 
terre the Prince Governor of Cairo ! ’ 

The King sat in his court surrounded by the members of 
his cabinet. And a satisfaction glowed upon the face of the 
King. He sat attended on either side by his royal scribes. 

Upon this morning Lady Vivian was in the literary Con- 
gress where she was delving into some volumns of history. 
She was interrupted by M. Clevelande, who wholly unnoticed 
by she, approached her. 

Vivian, thou art very diligent in thy studies! 

Greetings friend. Yea I am delighted to see thee. Dili- 
gent? Not so for one whose knowledge is limited. I needs 
must seek labourous study to receive any degree of enlightn- 
ment. 

Me thinks thou art in error, Vivian. All Cairo doth bear 
that Lady Vivian stands a most brilliant scholar in their 
midst. 

Good friend. Thy compliments are most flattering. 

I swear by the gods, Vivian. The polite society of Cairo 
doth call thee scholary. And a polished and finished, finely 
scholar. It is a decree to boast of. Me thinks. 

She glanced at the face of M. Clevelande, then she an- 
swered him. 

Thou art in cheery spirits this pretty day? I ween thou 
art, and hast thou come from a Bacchanalia? Rather. Dost 
thou hail from the land of wilder dreams? Wherein. Honey 
and flowers are bound in every man’s bower? And the red 
rose of love blooms with the blue forget-me-not in thy heart’s 
arbour? 

M. Clevelande understood her meaning. She spake of the 
opium vapor. 

Who doth not know Vivian? I may be a votary of Bac- 
chus. I may again be a dreamer of fancy dreams. What 
matters all? 

I am a wanton beggar of time, I seek not study. Neither 
do I wish to labour. I am in close study and search of a 
thing. Filled with keen fresh pleasures. For with this so- 


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273 


lution? Ha! Ha! I may commune hourly in the race with 
hoary Father time. 

He laughed hoarsely. And a pity crept into the eyes of 
Lady Vivian as she looked upon his lined face. 

My good friend, then if such thou dost seek — I prythee 
find these things in the greatest of all balms. Work. 
Masterful work! 

Ye gods! Work? Thy words do not prattle much pleas- 
ure. Upon me faith, I seek. I covet pleasures and not this 
dreadsome thing called work. 

This is my course in life. 

Work? Baffle! Scientists, philosophers and dreamers 
may all dream of ideals. Inspired by work. In faith I will 
possess neither contain the will for it. It fascinates me not 
a little. The thongs of toil, the fetters of work! 

My Soul is not in tune with it. I go only to find pleasure. 
And Ah! The good and the obliging fairies fetch thou the 
beauties of lavish pleasures. Of rare delights. Then and 
only then. I shall dream. Dream on forever and a long 
lived day. The gods have whispered these secrets into my 
ear ; and as he finished these words he waved his hands care- 
lessly. 

Good friend thy rambling words do sorely perplex me. 
Thou indeed art a sorely traveled man. I beg of thee go 
thou out into this great large universe. Go thou out among 
the busy throng of the people. For mark ye, there is. There 
must be a place waiting for thee among them. Go thou. I 
prythee and take thy place in the world. Forget thy hurt. 
Go. Credit thyself as a splendid citizen of Cairo for the city 
stands in need of great strong men. I beg of thee, friend. 

But he laughed more. In laughing he turned his head and 
he beheld Lady Catherine approaching them. And in her 
arms she was bearing the little Rubyat. 

Catherine, he cried as he stepped forth to meet her. I 
am greatly pleased — nay, do not recoil from my hand’s 
touch, he continued as he stood apart from the ladies. 

The ladies embraced and the little Rubyat gurgled as she 
was swathed in this effusively sentimental atmosphere. 

Catherine please? And taking little Rubyat from the 
arms of her sheltering love she snugly placed her in the arms 
of Lady Vivian who walked to the far end of the congress 
chapel. 

An estranged feeling held both Lady Catherine and M. 
Clevelande in a dull silence for they were left alone. 


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Catherine, I have heard. Pardon thou me. The rumors 
are being spread, but he faltered as she flushing hotly raised 
her hand. 

I do not wish to hear thy gossip, thou art bearing a hasty, 
a false sentiment against me. I know of what thou dost 
speak. 

Catherine do not be unkind. I who love thee. I would 
not bear a false neither an unjust sentiment for thee. But 
the people everywhere. As I attend the games, the races, the 
festivals. When I may go into the temples and everywhere, 
I hear the same. That the King is thy slave! 

M. Clevelande thy accusations are bold, and I can no 
longer stay to hear them. So saying she walked to the far 
end of the Congress Chapel and joined Lady Vivian while 
M. Clevelande with a restless step left the Congress. 

Vivian, my sweet companion I did surprise thee? I tired 
of my art chapel, I felt surged with a restlessness. The 
morning was so roseate, its cheer bade me out into the free 
and the boundless atmosphere. Then once away from my 
modeling, as usual, my mind bent upon thee, dear. I 
slipped away going to the Convent and bore little Rubyat 
that she might bear us a mind of good will and charity. I 
knew I should trace thee here, at thy study. 

And a glad surprise, sweet Catherine, she responded as she 
tossed the babe in her arms. A thousand times yea, Cath- 
erine. 

Vivian, the same charm that which inspired me. The 
dreams which were breathed unto me from the walls of my 
art chapel. Alack! I find but it all a vast emptiness. I felt 
I must leave it all, behind me. I wanted to run away. Fast. 
Faster, for I felt I was mad. 

Mad I tell thee Vivian. 

Catherine thy pretty blue eyes are in tears. Tell me, art 
thou in sorrow? 

Nay, my dear. I am but over fatigued. My work has 
been close. Close and difficult. 

But, my Sweet Catherine. I never heard thee speak of thy 
work as fatiguing thee ! Thou must be ill. 

Pent etre! And the weather. The sun so bright without 
it made my chapel so dark and cold within. And this lone- 
liness chilled me. 

I pry thee, Catherine, not another word. I shall not ques- 
tion thee. But I do feel I know thy habits and knowing 


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275 


them. I fear for thee. Come let us go into the open court. 
There the sun shines in warm glow. 

Then they left the literary court chapel. Going directly 
into a grove nearby. To bask in the golden touches of the 
delightfully warm sunshine. And they went farther. 

Out into the open fields; in a nook they found a rustic 
bench fastened around the trunk of a majestic tree. And 
they reclined themselves upon this bench. 

The fields are beautiful, the day is wonderously bright. 
In the blue skies Catherine behold! There, the gods didst 
find thy pretty blue eyes. And thy smiles they took from 
the Sun’s rays. And from the sullen skies of the thunderous 
heavens, I ween thou hast snatched thy shadowed face, in 
the lines which it doth bear to-day. Come Catherine, be 
merry of heart. 

Indeed, pretty are thy words dear Vivian. The fields are 
bright but. This glorious sun dost not shine indoors. 

The portals of thy Soul are too thicken Catherine. This 
beautiful outdoors its breezes so balmy, the gentle glow of 
the masterful Sun and the soft tones of the field larks and 
the linnets, enrapture the heart and the mind. 

• A lull silenced their conversation and these two com- 
panions sat in admiration of their surroundings. 

Little Rubyat was crawling near the outer grove. Prattling 
and pulling the flowers which nodded their pretty open faces 
towards her. 

Vivian dost thou believe in the wisdom of the soothsayer? 
That the awful doom of Life is written in the stars? 

Verily, I do Catherine. It is a science and there doth 
seem to be a destiny hanging over life that we can not dispel. 
Neither can we shape. 

My dear, was it not Socrates who gave to the world this 
rich gem. 

“That the soul of man partakes of the divine and while 
the gods alone know what is for man’s benefit. We should 
pray. Not for particular goods, but only for that which is 
good.” 

I tell thee Catherine, I rarely do believe the sentiment of 
this able thinker. That although our fate is known by the 
gods, we ourselves must pray. Pray that we may be able to 
accept and to live nobly, thereby. 

To pray Vivian would never shape my destiny. If so true. 
It remains already written in the stars. 


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Be that true. But we must meet this destiny in a brave 
manner. And we can only do this by prayer alone. 

Upon my faith Vivian. The power of prayer! Can it be 
then so wonderously beneficial? 

Ah! Prayer is more than that. A prayer issued from the 
closed portals of one’s own soul. A prayer. Unheard by 
any except by the gods. Will so surely lead thy mind into a 
greater understanding. And this understanding will widly 
clutch the inspiration that comes from hope. And hope, it 
doth bear the charm and the balm. My sweet companion 
there is much truth. Likewise greater power in prayer. For 
prayer is the bread of life. Without it no truly great man is 
ever able to meet life bravely and firmly. The prayer of 
the Soul doth fall upon the gods and from their throne with- 
in the courts of justice. They answer in compassion. 

Vivian, where is Rubyat? She is not here. A moment 
they stared into each others eyes. Then with a bounding 
leap they ran into the grove. For the fields were open and 
she was not there. 

They had gone but a few rods to their right. There be- 
side a slender hawthorne tree they found her. They called 
to her. The babe was asleep and they leaned over her. Nay. 
She did not breathe. Breathlessly they stared. Then in 
haste they lifted the little chubby form from this grassy spot. 
The little body was lifeless. And cold. 

What should they do next? 

A wretched fright together with a heart’s grief overcome 
them both. And they placed the rigid body upon the bench. 
Then. They searched the grass where the little one had been 
found. 

It was only logic. A snake had bitten the babe. A dili- 
gent search followed and neither of them spake a word. 

Suddenly. Lady Vivian exclaimed in alarm for she had 
found a ring. 

They examined it with greatest care and they found it to 
be the poison ring. 

Catherine, the poison ring! 

But Vivian. How? Why is this ring here? 

I do not know dear. Perchance dropped by some one 
passing this place. But it is quite strange. Then upon ex- 
amining the ring again. They found a hollow bezel and a 
hollow point which worked with a concealed spring and 
this cavity contained the poison. ’ 

Strange! Strange indeed! 


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277 


The babe had found this ring snugly hidden in the blades 
of the grass. Where she had played. Doubtless she had 
crushed the ill setted gem of the ring in her little mouth. 
For Ruby at had just reached the age when all objects ob- 
tainable were shaped for her only, two little teeth. And for 
her irritating gums. Nearby lay a wooden fan handle. 
Showing holes for feathers which were not in evidence. And 
near this fan. They also found a horse hair umbrella. Which 
was the attribute of royalty. 

Lady Vivian turned to her companion. 

Theron! 

Theron? But Vivian he would not have left the fan. The 
umbrella. Whereby he could be traced so easily. 

Doubtless he has forgotten them. For Catherine there is 
never a bold stroke but there remains a shadow thereof. 

CHAPTER XLVI. 

An Empty Prison. 

Bridle thy pretty laughter for the Egyptian ladies value 
etiquette more than Nature! 

Maidens wrapped their gauze veiling covering their faces 
completely. 

Only a pair of laughing eyes, and two love locks. Upon 
either cheek could be distinguished. 

The ripples of laughter of the merry maidens were scarce- 
ly hushed. Loud laughters filled the air in hoarse voices 
coming from the roadways where the youths were in groups. 
Gay in their merriment. For a constant vapor o’er the city 
was flying. This day. Cairo was wearing a gladsome smile. 
The smile of kindred humanity. For the day was the time 
when the prisons were empty. The citizens all seemed pro- 
pelled with new energies. 

Lady Vivian stood within the chapel of the Prison Court. 
Her full eloquent mouth supported her long slender throat. 
It smiled in mercy upon the liberated slaves. Who one by 
one were released by order of the King. They marched out 
into the highway. Free. 

The drooping heads of the slaves were then raised and 
they saluted the Lady Vivian as they passed the long court 
channel leading out of the Prison Court. This channel led 
close to where she stood. And she who most gracious with 
men of letters. Of science. Responded with a beautiful 
smile to the salutations of these liberated slaves. Her free 
and natural ease of cheery manner fell upon them with a 
gladness. Soon. The slaves were out of the channel. Gone 


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out into the city. Back to a home. With honest men. There 
in homes with tender greetings where a loved one had waited 
patiently for his return. 

Hearts joined to hearts. Eyes too full of tears to see — the 
past. 

Hark! There is music where sweetest chords never were 
struck. And mourning? Nay! No mourning their dead joys 
and their dead hopes. For the Soul is no longer dazed. 
Neither mad. There is an awakening! 

Now the last slave in the line being out of the channel. 
Lady Vivian returned into the King’s chapel. 

There in a stately gold fauteuil sat the King. His crim- 
son mantle held about his shoulders with an elaborate 
jeweled clasp of many jewels. 

Ah! Daughter mine. Come rest thyself upon my knee. 
And the King’s face light with a bright joy as he held out his 
arms to his daughter Vivian. 

She playfully caressed him and reclined herself upon his 
knee. 

The King fondly patted her cheek with the tenderness of 
a father, as he studied her face. 

Daughter thou art a comfort to thy father. 

She looked up at him wistfully. 

Father dear, thou art weary. For thou speakst so, and a 
weariness doth show itself upon thy face in lines. There, 
dear father rest thy head against the back of the fauteuil 
and close thy eyes. Calm thyself in thy restlessness. 

And she drew the head of the King back against the fau- 
teuil, closing his eyes with her hands. For the King in truth 
was wearied, not alone by the duties. But the extreme ex- 
citement of the day. 

Sitting very quietly, she lifted her eyes again. Yea. The 
King had fallen into a light sleep. Then noiselessly she 
slipped away from the chapel, while the attendants remained 
near the King’s fauteuil as he slept. 

Scarcely. Had she reached the outer garden when a 
familiar figure, swinging his lithe body in quicke steps ap- 
proached her. The dignity of Canterre drew from her a feel- 
ing of pride and Canterre’s face lighted with a glow as their 
eyes met. 

Vivian I am delighted. I was but seeking thee in the 
King’s chamber. 

Greetings Canterre. Thou art in glad spirits and it is a 
goodly fortune. For this is a gladsome day in the city. The 


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279 


Slaves. Thou didst witness their lines of marching out of 
the prisons? 

I did, and I am enthralled with many. Many. Newer 
glories dearest. It dost rejoice my heart to see thee in such 
excellent spirits. 

And Canterre I am in excellent spirits. I am just now 
leaving the King and he is resting in un petit sommeiL He 
is fatigued from the festivities of the week. And with the 
jolification of the day. Just the hour past, the prisoners were 
liberated. And a leathern coat was given each slave in ex- 
change for his coarse woolen coat. And the gift of exchange, 
it served to intoxicate them. 

Who would not be pleased Vivian to have a leathern coat 
and his citizenship restored upon him in place of the woolen 
coat and an imprisonment? 

They passed through the long channel for I was there, 
Canterre. 

A true monitor upon the sea of troubled life my dearest, 
Vivian. 

Ah, but Canterre my heart was full. I wish I might 
possess a world of power to impart a new spirit. And more, 
unto these poor unfortunates. But this happiness of their 
going out to-day please me much. Out into their own world 
of free life. They go. They sit and they sip with the honest 
man once more. 

And there is a mighty God above us, Vivian who doth ever 
bless thy saintly mercy. 

I thank thee Canterre. I like thy frank sentiment, but I 
cherish not thy flattery. So have a care, she answered laugh- 
ingly. 

In truth! My words are from my heart. The tender emo- 
tions of goodness, of mercy. Have they not tendered a per- 
suasion? The King to make this day. The prison day? It 
shall go down in the history of Cairo. 

And, responded she with a restful breathe, my heart is 
glad. I do rejoice with them. Their freedom, their libera- 
tion. Both of the dungeons and of the galley. And the Coun- 
cil having restored the Jew to an equality, making him citi- 
zen in Cairo, this I am thankful for. Now Cairo can be 
praised as she marches in the line of progression. 

Vivian thou accord the justice in man for man alike! I 
honour the sentiment. And it is the outcome of a broad wis- 
dom. 

Wouldst thou believe it should be otherwise Canterre? 


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I must be honest dear. I am not so sweetly sympathetic 
as thee. 

Then, thou dost not approve with much favour the passing 
of the Act of the Jew? 

I beg of thee, dearest. Do not misunderstand my intent. 
In fact this is a just act. A good commercial and necessary 
move. True thy wide charity doth mantle all mankind alike. 
Thy power of discernment is keen. It is justice! Justice 
that which speakth in this act. And Justice choked in the 
throats of man will always find a voice. Thy goodness Vi- 
vian. I trowth fallth upon every one. As the dew that 
which dews the early blossoms of the dawn. And liken the 
famed coloured Aurora awakens this oriental Egypt land. 
The power of thy act awakens the best and the noblest in 
the human Soul. And my dear. Is there not then, some 
great hidden and powerful force working through thy goodly 
efforts? Thou art led into such wide paths, unto such mighty 
moves. 

Thy compliments jve graceful, Canterre. But. If Egypt 
has at last been awakened. It is not by any power of my in- 
dividual work. It is through thy goodly work that it is all 
come about by the intellect of the people. Somnambulistaly 
moving upon a progressive wave. And this moral wave. 

Canterre took her hand and smiled as a sudden desire 
seized upon horn. 

Come Vivian. May we retire into the rose garden? 

Then the topic of civil affairs of their city was discon- 
tinued and without a word more, the pair walked into the 
beautiful rose garden. Walled with its climbing roses and 
dotted with clusters of dainty roses. And with a few 
plants of the blooming lavender orchid which were placed in 
and through the dainty Japanese Maple slight trees. And 
the colour of' the orchid so soft in lavender shades blended 
with beauty and it showed itself through the palest green and 
the white of the Maple tree. 

In one corner of the garden was a tea house. Rustic vine- 
clad and slightly hidden by a conventional row of these ar- 
tistic Japanese Maples. Lady Vivian reclined herself upon a 
reed bench, while Canterre sat beside her. Her robe of 
tawny yellow contrasted with the masses of softly hued roses, 
overhanging this pretty quaint house. And she wore a spray 
of the baby rose at her throat. 

Lavishly Canterre’s mind did cherish this picture of femi- 
nine beauty. 


A Princess of the Orient 


281 


Dearest I treasure thee! he exclaimed as he suddenly 
caught her shapely hands, covering them with kisses; and 
he smiled as he looked upon her lovely blushing face. 

The darling of the gods! In truth, a treasure from the 
gods’ greatest gift shop. Woman! Vivian with thy own lips 
speak to me. Thou dost love me? 

She looked into his eyes. A most pleasing and a delicate 
finely sentiment betook her, and she softly put her arms 
around his neck. 

Canterre, I love thee! 

He gathered her in his arms and held her fondly. Pas- 
sionate love enthralled him and he trembled with its delight. 

My darling! O winds give vent to thy gentle breezes. O 
Hours lend thy charm. O Graces infest this rose garden of 
warm love with thy pink graces. Descend to warm the heart 
of my darling with the amorous kisses of thy love. For 
she is of my rarest possessions. 

Ah! I thank thee! O Gods of Love. Even now the roses 
do lend their fragrance bent to blend their sweetness with 
the lovely Vivian. I ween, my darling girl. All else failth. 
Naught compares with thy pure loveliness. Thy rare grace 
and thy adorable charms; they out do them all. 

Lady Vivian blushing with tender sentiments drew herself 
from him and turned her face away. 

Canterre foolish! How foolish thy words! They cease to 
be compliments. And yet. I love them upon thy lips, and 
finely words fail to shape my happy delight such as the 
heart is gladened of a lady when she listens to these words 
from her lover. 

My own love! he cried do not turn thy pretty face away 
from me. 

Then slowly she turned again to him. A silence followed. 
And she was the first to speak. 

Canterre there is a great, a tremendous burden upon my 
heart to-day. 

A burden upon thee, my darling? 

And it is this. Thou hast deserted thy official chair. Like- 
wise my people. And the people of my father. 

Vivian? 

Yea. I do not reproach thee. Neither do I blame my 
people in their disfavour. Methinks to abandon a much 
coveted office is most unnatural. And thy own people do 
bear a mighty weigh upon thee. Alas ! I understand. Their 
blood is calling for their own. But my people need such a 


282 


A Princess of the Orient 


leader as thee, Canterre. Thy platform is the one revolution 
which Cairo hast been crying for. For she was sunken into 
vice and our people have cried with famished voices from 
their sunken mire of drunkenness and lustful crime, naked 
with the blackness of the purest lives that might have been. 
Here. 

Our best citizens who might have been. Now, behold 1 
Them scrambling in the pit falls of the drunkard’s tomb. 
Pitiful wretches! And now, the strongest have fathered the 
weak. And our city has Temperance. The naked will be 
clothed, the wretched made happy. The Unclean. Clean. 
The weak will be strong and the strong will be greater. And 
our Cairo? She will move forward in the greatest strides 
ever recorded in all Egyptian history. For there is a secret 
greatness hidden in the Soul of all mankind and there needs 
but an incentive to open this spring of noble, pulsing ambi- 
tion, which being open once. Humanity will tread the high- 
est mount of mortal greatness. 

Canterre Cairo has found this incentive. A clean mind! 

My dear Vivian. True, I agree with great favour with 
thy sentiments. A strong country is fashioned by the sav- 
ing. The developement of the individual. 

Now. Cairo has her new platform and she stands revolu- 
tionized. There can be one leader from among her great 
men chosen to the office of the Prince Governor. It remains 
not necessary for Cairo. That one individual lead. And in 
France my people need me much. My duty to my people 
is that I return with their lost Queen. Or with the news 
thereof. I needs must go immediately. I am of the French 
and unto the French I must return. 

Canterre paled as he noted a look of pain upon her face 
and as she put her hands over her eyes. 

Gently he took her hands away from her tear stained face 
and holding them firmly. He look earnestly into her eyes. 

My darling! I am not leaving thee. 

Then like a flash from the thunder gods he embraced her 
tightly with a mighty feeling of possession. 

I am taking thee with me for I can not go without thee. 
Gods! What a dismal tread without thee. I can not neither 
will I go without thee. 

But Canterre. I fear the King, he is alone! 

The King will be comforted, my dearest. It is now too 
late. There remains but the one open road for thee and for 


A Princess of the Orient 


283 


me. And that is the sublime road to Love’s Throne. Thou 
must go with mel 

Lady Vivian was sick with an inward emotion. 

True Canterre. I have flung myself blind. In this sphere 
of happy bliss. Ere I knew it was too late. But it is for my 
father I do grieve. For my duty dost speak above my love. 

Ah! My dearest, my eyes that lit at thy lightest breathe. 
Thinkst thou I can go on? Days and months. Without the 
sight of thee? In the silent streets of every where. The 
streets even. in France will be silent without thee. Forever 
and always, I would wander searching for thee. My dearest 
with love’s own trembling lips, I bid thee come. My path is 
thine. Thy path is mine! Do not deny me the right of my 
Soul. 

But the King, my father? 

The King shall be comforted by the tender mercies of 
Catherine, thy sweet companion. 

She drew back from him. Theron, thou too dost know? 

Whereupon he smiled. As all Cairo doth know, my dear- 
est one, he responded as he clasped her in his arms and 
brushed her dark hair gently. Then he looked long into her 
eyes kissing her with a lover’s kiss. 

Darling! Let us await the murmur of the gods. 

So slyly she slipped from his embrace and fled. Leaving 
him standing alone in the beautiful rose garden. And these 
nodding roses smiled to him in the garden of sweetest 
memories. 

And the sweet lute player from the festive Court came, 
danced and played round Canterre. 

Lady Vivian as she left Canterre in his memories. A vast 
desire overcome her and she was making her way to Lady 
Catherine’s chapel. 

So intent upon her desire that she failed to notice the 
form of a girl coming towards her. 

She came to a sudden stop for the girl stood directly in 
her path. 

Greetings this good day. Lady Vivian. 

Greetings! Ah, ’tis Macchantia. I pry thee how is it 
with thee to-day, my friend? Responded she with a glad 
voice. 

In wonderful spirits, your ladyship. I am happy because 
I am leaving Cairo to-night. 

Thou leaving Cairo to-night Macchantia? Whither art 
thou bound for? May I make bold to inquire. 


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I leave Cairo tonight. Where? Ah! On into Alexandria, 
the city of free pleasures. 

Alack! Macchantia I am indeed grieved to learn this. I 
had hoped, I did cherish a hope for thee. But. Do not mis- 
take my words, for thy welfare, I did wish much. Now 
of all times my dear girl. Cairo should be thy abiding place. 
I wish thee to reconsider thy plans and do not leave Cairo. 
Stay! 

And why such interest in the welfare of such as me? asked 
the bold girl. 

The dearest hope of my life, Macchantia. That thou 
among the countless number of Cairo, both the young nien 
and the young women, may live a clean pure life. A life. 
The one thy good parents have planned for thee. A life 
free from taint of lust and crime. A virtuous life. 

Why speakst thou of virtue to me? sneered the girl. 

Why? My dear good girl. Because virtue belongs to 
thee. As it does to every girl. 

And a clean life? Scorned the girl. 

Macchantia, because thou art better given to clean than 
to wicked morals. 

Ah! Do not deceive thyself. For the virtue of thy goodly 
qualities doth stand forth in thy inmost desires. It can not 
be otherwise Macchantia. 

Why? Why Lady Vivian take it into thy pretty head to 
decry my mode of living when I am satisfied? I was content 
until now for my life was bound in pleasures. Bah! This 
infernal reformation ! The people do rave like mad maniacs. 
To what end do they rave over this so called white moral 
wave? A reform? Ha! Ha! A reform! I tell thee my dear 
lady, all of Cairo is mad. 

Blessed hour when upon this night I take my departure 
and go into Alexandria. Gods in the heavens! It will be 
like a dark night turned into brightest dawn. There in this 
city of gilded pleasures. Where there is none of this infernal. 
I call it. This white moral Cairo calls it. 

Now Lady Vivian put her hand upon the shoulder of the 
girl. 

Macchantia. As a deep wish from the heart of the daughter 
to thy King. Promise me this. 

The girl looked up at her and a slow questioning light 
filled her sleepy eyes. 

And that wish Lady Vivian? 

Remain in Cairo for just one fortnight. And then my dear 


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285 


girl, I would not cause thee fury ; but let me speak my mind. 
I love thee as one of the great children of Cairo. Then. 
Perchance the drug of the opium will have become loathsome, 
and the habit. Thy unshadowed intellect will reason far 
better for thy own good. More eloquently. Than my slow 
words. And once free from the taints of this dreaded drug. 
Thy goodly, the best within thee, will tell thee more than my 
words can shape for thee. 

And there are so many goodly virtues within thee. Just 
waiting. Only waiting for their opportunity. Come, Mac- 
chantia think. Cairo now stands thy mother. She is pure 
and clean. Under the shadow of her masterful love thou 
may St have no fear of another such evil spell. Her ever 
ready discipline remains thy guardian Angel. Prepares thee 
against such vile temptation. Thou art but one of the coimt- 
less number of girls who by weak environments have sunk 
into shameful degradation. That was when Cairo was 
wicked. But now. All remains so different. Thy life will 
be engirded with vastly different lights. 

Come, thy promise? Just for one fortnight Macchantia, 
and at the conclusion of this fortnight. Alack! if thy mind 
remains discontent — then will be the proper hour for thee 
to leave here. I beg of thee Macchantia! 

The girl put her hands upon her hips. She threw back her 
head rudely and with a vulgarness she laughed. She all but 
screamed in a high pitch of voice. A laughter of contemptu- 
ous scorn. 

Thou, the daughter to the King! What knost thee of the 
temptations of the world! Thy world has been not outside 
the King’s palace. Thou who hast always been nutured from 
the cradle on the pillow of clean parental love. Who has 
always been guarded thy whole life through. Day by day 
with a careful training and surrounded by every luxury. 
Riches untold. And a life of pure pleasures. 

Whilst I? Macchantia; yea- my father counts his riches. 
But alack, I care not for his silver neither his gold. It can 
bring me no vast pleasures, now. 

Pleasures? That alone can be found in the balm of in- 
dulgence. A drug? 

Perchance it is a drug but I found it as a child upon my 
father’s knee. 

And now. Let me go my way. I care not to drag out a 
dismal day. ’Tis folly to do so. When bright and happy 
hours play just within my hands’ touch. 


286 


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Nay. I go and thou, go thy way. Upon marble streets 
clean, for thou art fit for them. And Macchantia hastens 
on her happy way. Into Alexandria which beckons for her. 
Let the fool tarry in Cairo 1 

Lady Vivian stepped aside as the girl brushed rudely past 
her. And the last she heard was the scornful laughter from 
the lips of the girl. Now drunk with opium. 

What a pity, thought Lady Vivian as she continued upon 
her way. 

The vast fortune accumulated by Macchantia’s father — 
how had he gathered such an enormous fortune? 

Had not the products of his great date groves netted him 
this wealth? And did not this same product. Likewise ruin 
countless lives? Break shamefully numerous homes? 

Yea! And so all fortunes. Be it a goodly life. Be it an 
evil life. Its deeds ever remain a gravitation! 

CHAPTER XLVII. 

Pleasures As Ever. 

All that is Earthly is subjected to sin for it is gravitation 

Hugo's Fantine. 

The World dominion. Justice. Famishes the Mephitis in 
Human Life! 

The King, the Prince Governor. The Privy Council, the 
officials of the numerous departments of the city. Such as 
the Royal Controller, the Majordorio, the royal scribes, the 
Captain of the Calvary, the Ensign of the Navy and the 
Commandant of the city were under the jurisdiction of the 
mighty hand of Justice, now. 

Enacting new laws and beginning the new enforcement of 
the laws of the reform platform. 

Past Prince Governor M. Theron as virulent in his defeat 
as the newly elected Prince Governor was calm. 

Upon the roadways. The outspoken expression of the 
platitude hurled at the reformers challenged a louder plaudit 
from the followers. And from the sympathizers. 

Men drove their chariots. Many ladies rode in heavy cars 
drawn by oxen. Each lady was wearing a necklet of flowers. 
The men wore the lotus bud bound upon their forehead. 

In the streets there was music and the most weird music 
of these players. Even the tones of the Cithora, blended with 
the gladsome spirit of this day. Of these joyful celebrations. 
Surely. So surely the flames of a Hell. Torched from the 
lanterns of the most wretched wicked in Cairo had been si- 
lently snuffed. And the torches of a Heaven’s sweet mercy. 


A Princess of the Orient 


287 


Lighted by these reformers made the city radiant with a 
great and cherished hope. 

Flee, O thy wicked Men! Forsake the gates for thy Mar- 
anathas are most unfitly. Is spelled. Behold thou! Ye evil 
doers of the honest men in Cairo. Thine eyes behold! The 
scales of Justice doth weigh true in the hands of the gods. 

In the brilliant sunshine of this day and in the roadways. 
Decorated lanterns were suspended from inlaid arches of 
fine art columns. The oriental beauty of the Egyptian. 
That which levels to strenght and harmony in contrasting 
repose with Nature. Made these archways richly and fan- 
tastically attractive with their gaudy tints. 

Noblemen, courtiers with fellahs. Alike in agog. Par- 
took of the gay festivities of this occasion. The new. The 
glad occasion of reformation, and the true Egyptian Patriot- 
ism and excellent fellowship. 

One feature of this celebration was a parade. A splendid 
gaudy parade. Which passed upon the streets of the center 
districts. 

Magnificent chariots, the drawn Sedan Chair. And the 
harem tent so much seen in such parades in the oriental 
cities. This harem tent with its snugly curtained walls. All 
formed their part in this parade. 

But this harem tent bourne upon the CamePs back now, 
was exposed. Its curtains were rolled back and the chair 
was unoccupied. 

Then. There were a number of camels upon their backs 
rode Egyptian men. Wearing white cloaks, and whitest 
turbans were upon their heads. 

The graceful soft tread of these camels made the casual 
observer blind to the seemingly awkard rider who rode upon 
these camels. 

A few carts drawn by spotted donkeys. The brigade of 
street strollers. All familiar sights. And a parade in Cairo 
would not have been a natural parade without this variety. 

And the music which followed in rapid tones. Bells were 
ringing with the other music. And this was a typical, Egp- 
tian demonstration. A line of people riding, walking; some 
in uniform tread, some in long broken and irregular lines. 

The parade was passing upon the most public street. 
From one balcony of a royal chapel. The King stood view- 
ing this parade of such giddy demonstrations. Upon either 
side of the King stood royal attendants. Near by his side 
was standing Lady Vivian and Lady Catherine. 


288 


A JPRINCESS OF THE ORIENT 


The chariots were passing. And Mordane was riding in 
one of these blazen chariots which was drawn by the blackest 
horses in tandem drive. 

It was not the magnificent Chariot, it was not the splendid 
pair of handsome horses of such spirits. It was Mordane. 
He stood with a blue and gold cloak wrapped round his tall 
figure. Glittering bands bordered his cloak. His white tur- 
ban fitted closely his raven black hair. 

The sun so brilliantly strong, blazing upon the Chariot in 
glittering light fell upon Mordane. And the sight dazzled 
the eyes of all the spectators, gathered upon the balconies, 
the street corners and within all the buildings. 

Mordane was looking up to the royal balcony where he 
knew Lady Catherine would be. As his eyes fell upon her, 
he lifted his turban in greetings. Not alone to Lady Cather- 
ine but to the King and Lady Vivian as well. 

The King bowed to Mordane and both the ladies waved 
their scarfs to him. 

The flutter of Lady Catherine’s blue silken and tasseled 
scarf in the light breezes was the last vision of Mordane. 

Upon this fatal moment. A report was heard. And Mor- 
dane fell upon his face. The horses in the tandem drive 
charged forward but the skillful driver brought them to a 
sudden standstill. 

The greatest excitement followed and the parade was 
halted. The music was hushed. The only sound. Was the 
murmur of the rushing mad people. As they gathered round 
the chariot of Mordane. And from the round balcony. A 
scream was heard. A scream so light, so faint. Then Lady 
Catherine swooned. 

She was quickly bourne away from the public gaze. While 
in the street below the lifeless form of Mordane was taken 
away. 

And Mordane had passed away. Murdered by a shot from 
some hidden hand. 

All was confusion with the people. When suddenly. The 
staggering figure of a man. 

Ill-conditioned he stood in the midst of the people who 
were gathered upon this balcony. For this man had gained 
entrance into the balcony. His head was uncovered. His 
hair was disheveled and his face was not pale. It was not 
flushed. For the dreadful hue of a greenish yellow colour 
covered his face. His eyes were sunken and deep and circled 


A Princess of the Orient 


289 


with black lines. He stood there among these people and 
they in turn were struck as dumb. 

The man laughed. He laughed still. Looking into the 
faces of all the horrified people. Then drawing from his 
cloak a revolver. He flourished it high over his head. 

Ha! The gods be praised in Cairo this day! The untime- 
ly death of a traitor is a timely gift for the tombs! They 
say he is not dead? 

Then. They lie, they lie shamefully. Who says Mordane, 
husband to Lady Catherine has not been shot to death? 
Fetch him here. He who doth lie so infamously! ’Tis a 
scandal against the gods’ mark. 

And a shameful lie in this awful doom of Mordane to say 
he doth live. 

Who murdered Mordane? I! Hear me. All those with 
ears to give. I! M. Clevelande am his murderer! 

Ha! Ha! For did he not steal the beautiful love of my 
heart from me? The priceless Queen of my heart? 

At this moment he faltered, then he grinned wickedly in 
the faces of the panic stricken people and continued in his 
raving. 

Now, O tombs of stately stone! Accept the dead body of 
the gentleman Artist. 

Therein he shall be swathed, he shall be basted in linen 
folds and ointments. 

Ah! Behold the black tar dripping from his ears. 

And none. None I say can be defiled more by the touch 
of this man’s hand. Not another heart can be bruised more 
by him. And Mordane! Husband to the lovely Lady 
Catherine? 

No memories shall fall upon the desolated tomb. No 
memories. No tears. For thou art gone. I repeat thou art 
sunk in blackest night which doth claim all memories from 
the coming days. 

Thou art of the yestern day. The wife of thy bosom? The 
sweet lady goes forth to meet the pleasures of the newly 
promised days of love of another man’s bosom. 

Ha! Ha! Sleep on. Man of blackest past. 

Mordane is dead while M. Clevelande lives! And the 
man reeled and. Then two officers came. They took him in 
their charge. 

The silent group upon the balcony who had witnessed the 
wild bickerings of the man, they remained silent in terror 
while M. Clevelande was led from the balcony. 


290 A Princess of the Orient 

The man tossed back his head and laughed and this wild 
laughter haunted these people for hours following this fateful 
hour. 

M. Clevelande was drunk! 

It was not the demons of the realms of Bacchus for his 
brain was swathed with the drowsy opium. 

And now. Another life goes out. Yea! There remains 
two worthy lives who have gone out of Cairo by this cursed 
drug. By the dregs of the opium. 

And who should suffer in this loss, if not Cairo? There 
remains the consoling facts. That the end of a day in the 
darkest history of Cairo has come about. 

And in her great loss she shall build again. 

May the Sun of tomorrow’s dawn wash away the stain of 
all crime which hast blackened the goodly name of the 
Egyptian in this cruel past. And bask all in the clear light 
of a future day of sound reasoning and fair judgement. For 
of such crimes, Cairo shall know no more. 

Now the King bent over the prostrate form of Lady 
Catherine several days after the murder of Mordane. Yea 
and more. It was weeks. 

He took her slender hand in both his hands. 

Catherine. The hope. This change! 

Whereupon after a hesitancy he continued in endearing 
words. 

The sullen light of the shining Sun that struck. That shut 
out the desire of my heart by shutting thee in among selfish 
desires. Shut thee away from me. 

This light has leapt to brightness. Behold! When the 
Soul of a man is troubled, the gods of good fortune come. 

O Your Majesty! What desperate forgetfullness of thy 
self. Thou art the mighty King of the Egyptians. And 
thou to speak thus to me? 

Great tears glistened upon the paled cheeks of Lady 
Catherine as she looked upon the King. 

The King smiled. My beautiful Catherine. I knew it 
not. Until Mordane didst bear thee away in wedlock. That 
it was I. Who wanted thee, most. And now. Like a fresh 
sunbeam casting its light upon a cheerless day. I find thee 
once more a jewel in my life again. Sweet Catherine, thy 
magnificent character doth stand with a soul. Pure and 
undefiled before even the gods. And I love thee. Adorable 
one. I love thee! 


A Princess of the Orient 


291 


And it is I. The King who doth wish thee, more than 
life itself. 

The King faltered with deepest emotion, and a deeper 
sigh heaved the bosom of Lady Catherine. She understood 
such love. 

The heart of the King was swelling with tears that his 
eyes could not shed. 

She put out her other hand, laying it upon his arm. 

0 King. A father thou hast ever been to me. And I love 
thee with a great reverence. Even now, in my deepest grief 
when others have failed' and have forgotten me. Thou hast 
come to soothe me and I am grateful. I thank thee! And 
she sobbed. 

The King looked at her paled face, then with a tenderness 
he answered her. 

Ah! My child, I have been too impatient. Thy heart is 
sorely grieved. But. I will wait. And love thee all the 
days and weeks I am waiting. 

1 thank thee, O King. Thy soul is of great generosity and 
kindly sympathy. • 

She smiled as she closed her weary eyes. 

And who could know the mission of the coming days? 

Not many days after the murder of Mordane. His body 
was put away and at an hour later upon the same day. M. 
Clevelande was led into the courtyard of the cells and there 
he was shot to death. 

Upon this following night Theron sat with some comrades. 
They were congregated in one small den of a building. 

Speaking of a wedding? queried Theron. Then be gone, 
ye idlers. I tell thee, there can be no wedding for any of 
thee. For he who sips from Bacchus’s goblet of reddest 
wine, with a drunkards boast and pride. He can ne’er sip 
nector from the coral lips of a tender and a worthy bride. 

Whereupon several nodded over their jug of wine. 

And further my comrades he who doth soar in the misty 
vapor of the opium skies, he doth clogg and beat his wings 
in vain despair. And in his unsteady arms no rosy bride 
may recline. 

Out with thy tongue’s idle chatter! Better he, who leaves 
the old city of Cairo to enter into Alexandria’s glittering 
gates. 

Hold! Forward we all go! 

And a few there were who laughed, as the opium vapor 
drowsed their minds. 


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A Princess of the Orient 


The wine’s taste stupified their wit. 

And. The drunkard with the dotard sat. Comrades re- 
joicing! 

CHAPTER XLVIII. 

A Spring Garden. 

The deserts surrounding Cairo lent their richest from 
their wonderful blanket of tawny sand. From the north of 
the city, the ancient Heliopolis, called by some City of the 
Sun, and it cast a reflected beauty from its solitary obelisk. 
From the south, the sparkling water of the Nile flowing in 
the aqueduct conducted a conventional stream of added 
beauty. 

From the east, the great Red Mountain standing as a ma- 
jestic pillar in its unique bed of petrified wood could be 
seen in its gigantic splendeur. And the small central village 
of El-Geezeh made the west border a picturesque land 
sketch of Egyptian country. 

Spacious Jessamine gardens and fields of roses in the 
Feiyoom hurled their fragrance with a whimsical breathe. 

The sweetness wafted upon the lighter breezes and intoxi- 
cated the atmosphere everywhere about the City. Occasion- 
ally the Lawsonia Alba. Called by some the Egyptian 
Privet and their flower of Paradise, could be seen nodding 
in pretty blossoms. 

Featously all Nature was gowned in her magnificent glor- 
ies. In the free woodland groves, the most beautiful of their 
antelope the gazelle was seen in graceful capers. Pigeons of 
many and all colours were flying and feeding with the fowls 
of the fields. The linnets. The larks with their songs of 
lust. The plover with their mournful wail. The beautiful 
Ibis there. Strutted in personal glory in a showy procession. 

The purple heavens. The giddy skies. The outlines of 
the splendid green, trees against them. All serene. Sculp- 
tored Egypt, Nature’s own. 

This was a spring garden. A garden filled with flaunting 
beauties. With the warmth of life, with bread and sweets. 
And with milk and sugar. 

This was the day after the marriage of Lady Vivian and 
Canterre had been celebrated. With brilliant ceremonies 
having been followed by a famous feast. 

Now upon this day. The gay barge decorated with flowers 
and colours sailed away from Cairo. 

It bore this happy wedded pair upon their journey. Away 
into France. 


A Princess of the Orient 


293 


Mid music and flowers upon the quiet dignified waters. 
The people of Cairo waved their farewells to their once be- 
loved Lady Vivian. And to their reformer. Canterre the 
political leader who had made morals the iron thimble with 
which the reformation was brought about in Cairo. 

As the wedding barge slowly strided away upon the water. 
And far. Far into the distant space, the people strained their 
eyes to see the outlines of the Oriflamme. It hurled its 
tricolours. Proudly. 

Now the Egyptians did not care for the Oriflamme but 
they did respect the inherent loyalty of Canterre. 

Unto the Egyptian people, the bright colours of this Ori- 
flamme might but capture them in an admiration of its 
cheerful dye. It could mean nothing more mighty than this. 
While to Canterre and to Princess Roxana. 

Who can understand? 

The banner of France! Old Glory! 

This party soon were lost to the eyes of the people of 
Cairo. Whom they left standing upon the port gathered in 
little groups. Some in pairs. 

And now these same people returned to their homes. 
Some bent in pleasure others in duty. 

The Princess Roxana was of this party. For she having 
left the Convent of the Christians, was accompanying her 
brother, and they were sailing for France. 

Apart from the party. Upon a certain hour after a day’s 
sailing. The Princess was found to be aloof from the happy 
people. She was bound in secluded mind. Her thoughts 
played with the saucy ripples of the water. Which twisted 
and whirled as the huge barge divided them. 

Her desire grew most violent with the surging waves. Her 
hopes would rise with the waves. Then. Fall with them. 
And she thought of many things that awaited her in the 
future. And of what the French people would demand of 
her. 

With the greatest resistance she sullenly thought of the 
bohemian life she had lived in Cairo. A life of insane de- 
sires and fastidious fancies. 

And truly her mind assented the words of the Scholar 
“that the false attracts but glares the sensitive Soul with 
offense.” 

As a panoramic view. It all passed before her eyes. Her 
life in the Convent. And lastly her return into the land of 
her birth. 


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A Princess of the Orient 


And this was her right by birth! 

How plainly she recalled the words of the Mother in the 
Convent, when she was leaving the Convent. 

My child, thou dost forsake Thy Father’s House. Thy 
Father’s work! 

Then the thoughts of her duty which had stamped her 
mind into a turbulent state. Had manifested her desires 
unto loyalty and then it was. She vowed her allegiance to 
the cause of her country men. 

My law is here in my heart. My God is there in the 
Heaven. And forever beholdth and fearth La Furia Francese, 
he who refuses his own people. 

After a time she released her mind and she sat. Idly 
veiled in sympathy, hope and many things of somewhat sub- 
lime fashion. And Lady Vivian was approaching her as she 
sat in this state of recluse. For it was a merry party upon 
this barge. 

Roxana, my sister, I have some news. I wish thee to 
read this. 

Speaking, she placed a rolled papyrus into the hands of 
the Princess. Its contents were — 

To Lady Vivian — May the gods^ blessing of good health 
and of goodly gain follow thee. And thy honourable hus- 
band. Until the end of thy days. And I pray they may be 
full and many. 

My sweet companion. And yea. My dearest friend. 
Upon the morrow at mid-day. I shall become the wife of 
the King. Thy noble father. The mighty King of the 
Egyptians. 

I pray thy rare blessings. 

Farewell my beloved. Companion. 

Signed. Catherine. 

Lady Vivian was leaning against the chair all the time the 
Princess was reading. Her eyes were following the dancing 
sunbeams as they played upon the glittering choppy waters. 
Her thoughts were a picture of the figure of a majestic ruler, 
clad in noble crimson velvet and ermine fur. A white haired 
gentleman wearing a crown of gold. Her father. Her heart 
was faint with a nearly sickness. Suddenly. A smile crept 
upon her face. She saw outlined in mental lines. • The 
cheery face of Catherine. Her sweetest companion. And 
the silent voice within whispered unto her. It is well ! 

The Princess finished reading the herald. She arose and 
embraced Lady Vivian. Kissing her. 


A Princess of the Orient 


295 


Vivian, my dear sister. Thou should be delighted. Most 
delighted. For now dear, thou mayst rest in sweet content. 
The King will not sit in loneliness. I am most happy, to hear 
it. 

It doth please me too Roxana, she responded with her 
voice choked with tears. Then she glided away leaving the 
Princess in her own pleasure train. This cozy nook did con- 
tain a mighty view from all sides. 

Lady Vivian then sought Canterre. As she approached 
Canterre. He leaped forward with a joyous spirit for he was 
happy. He embraced her. 

The wife of my bosom broke from his lips and she smiled 
upon him. 

Husband ! 

When he released her, they stood apart watching the 
scenery of distance, such as it could be divined from the 
barge. 

Canterre suddenly lifted his cap. He waved it. One. 
Twice and many times crying with a large happy voice. 
Dieu Merci. Enfin we are upon French waters. Let the 
Marseillaise be sung. 

O, Rouget de Lisle thy inspiration doth serve thy 
country’s people well! 

And the zephyrs bore the echoes far upon the water, until 
the water twisted. 

Now back in Cairo, this same day. The people were mov- 
ing in their usual custom. Industrious and idle. 

There was one from Cairo’s masses of people who was not 
in the public roadways. There. Were no open coffee shops 
in existence in the city. The gaming houses had been closed. 
And vice was no more. 

The happy faces of these citizens portrayed success as they 
passed in the public places. 

The one citizen who was unseen was Theron. Theron the 
past Prince Governor of Cairo. 

This day he sits chained within a public mad house. And 
this mad house stood in a solitary spot on the outlying dis- 
trict of the city. 

Theron caught in the deadly meshes of the tempter’s 
snare. The snare which he flung. Bantered upon the 
people. Ensnaring those of the careless of the citizens. Of 
the weak. 

And now. Theron was a hopeless. A raving mad man. 

The motto of the reformation! 


296 


A Princess of the Orient 


If this wretched man. Theron. Could now read these 
words intelligently. The sound sense of his keen awakening 
would answer. Yea! 

“It is a long way from a pitiless publicity to execute an 
ultra exclusiveness and pure clean principles in govern- 
ment.” 

O Gods! So surely the cycle in human life hast turned 
its wheel upon this poor wretch. For Theron is miserable. 

We would petition thee to cover this weak man with thy 
gracious mantle of mercy. 

Hold! Hark ye! The gods do resound their answer. 
And too in all strenght and power of warning. 

“Broken lives. Ruined homes is his meat. He shall sit 
dumb and love-lorn. And much afflicted. Darkness! A 
black darkness shall follow him to the end of his earthy days. 
For the vow of Justice hast condemned the naked victories 
of his past wicked life. 

Likewise. Any. All. Who boast in hard loud tones, 
their strenght over the weak. Who tempts man where weak- 
est he stands. Who courts his treasury bonds fettered by 
blighted hopes. Stained lives. And tears of blood. Such 
tears that only fall from a hopeless existence. 

Hold! For such as he is rightly named. The vampire- 
bat. 

And it has always been the ruling of Justice. Such shall 
through eternity be the law. 

Oh man! Wouldst thou live a full rich life? Giving thy- 
self content? Then hear ye! A god-like heart. Every man 
thy brother. 

Go thou forth seek for thy brother’s welfare, that thou 
mayst reach thyself a goal of golden fortune. And a mutual 
bliss!” 

Upon these phrases. The people whispered in greatest 
awe! 

A newly appointed Prince Governor had taken his oath 
of office and he was now serving the people as Canterre 
would have served them. And Cairo was glowing in the 
light of the reformation. 

Lady Catherine wife to the King and now. The Queen of 
Egypt. Was beloved by the people. Adored by the King. 

Upon one certain afternoon she was reclined upon a divan 
of gold leaf and brocaded velvet. It was drawn before a low 
open window of her royal blue chamber. It had an out- 
look upon the court gardens surrounding the King’s palace. 


A Princess of the Orient 


297 


And. Too. Very distinctly. She could distinguish the lux- 
urious poppy fields. Mid flare against the quiet blue skies 
which made it a possible and a pleasing view. And a view 
which never wearied the eye. 

Queen Catherine lifted her lorgnon to her eyes. Each dis- 
tinct blossom of the poppy seemed but at the tips of her 
tapering dainty fingers. 

She was in wanton mood. Lasciviously she petitioned her 
fancies to fantastic shape. 

The soft zephyrs blowing from the poppies bore a balm. 
This balm only intoxicated her more. And it captivated her 
in a fancy mood. Then it was she sunk into. Perchance. 
A loose train of thoughts. 

“Catherine”! 

As the low gentle voice spake her name. She started. She 
met the ardent eyes of the King, as he was bending over her. 

She dropped her lorgnon. She arose from her languid posi- 
tion. But the King gently reclined her upon her gold divan, 
with a tender light in his eyes. 

Precious wife of m'y bosom. I prythee, thou didst absent 
thyself for several hours. I had a dreadsome misgiving here. 
Within my bosom. I thought. I feared. O ye gods! What 
did I not fear? 

And the King kissed her many times, then he seated him- 
self by her side. 

He devoured her beauty with a greedy pride of pos- 
session. 

Husband, I prythee. Thou art ill? 

Nay! Catherine I am not ill. I still remain in this curry 
of furious dread. But tell me, precious wife. Art thou again 
sitting in one of those dreadful silent dreams? 

She flushed as she looked at him. And he only smiled 
and took her slender hand and carried it to his lips in a kiss. 
Then she turned her eyes from his glance, lowering them 
upon the oriental rug upon the floor. She tapped the toe of 
her tiny gold brocaded slipper in an unsteady way. 

Husband, I am not in as thou hast named it. A silent 
dream. And if it be a dream. It is a beautiful dream, more 
golden than the beauties, which fall from the Cornucopia 
that is swung about the neck and shoulders of the fairy 
Queen. Jewels and precious gems! And roses and kisses! 

Husband thou hast become ill with this restless anxiety. 
Believe me, my good husband. I do not roam in vagaries. 
Neither do I sit in restless attitude. I was wrapped in si- 


298 


A Princess of the Orient 


lent admiration of the marvelous beauty of the gardens. The 
mellow red poppy, reddens yon distant fields. I love them 
all. I adore these free beauties of Nature. From the ir- 
regular double toned leaves of the sycamore tree to the con- 
ventional lined blossom of the rich velvety poppy. 

Dost thou not understand, husband mine? 

Lovely wife. My heart knows naught but of its love for 
thee. My mind bespeaks, me thinks truly and I fear. I fear 
much. 

Husband! And she sat forward with an alertness. 

Yea darling wife. I am old and thou art in the Spring of 
life. Thy dainty feet must trod in many and different paths 
of pleasures. For it is measured so for youth. Gay, happy 
Youth! 

Whilst I? Thy husband banded with trembling pinions 
must sit idly dumb by thy side. Thy heart so young, so true, 
doth cry for companion throb. Thy Soul doth hungry for 
a Soul to commune with. No power of mortal man can deny 
thee the divine right of thine own heart’s desire. And more. 
Lovely wife. I know the laws of Nature. Thou beautiful 
one of Nature’s spirit must obey. 

Husband mine, I love thee very much. Why speakst thou 
of a newer companion for me? I would not have it so. For 
thou art the gentlest companion I have known. In my girl- 
hood, in my womanhood. Thou art sweet. Thou art kindly 
to me. 

My husband thou art a superb man among men, she 
answered as she fastened her eyes upon the King. 

Her vivacity so spontaneous. Enamoured the King and 
the rippling laughter as it fell from her cherry red lips, 
played upon him in exquisite tones. And they served him 
finely. Then just at this moment. A dancing maid entered 
the royal chamber. For this was the hour for the Queen’s 
amusement. 

A pretty vision in silvered gauze and with feet and limbs 
bare. 

This dancer danced with lively poses and artistic figures 
and her dancing was followed by a youth playing a harp. 

Now the King with the Queen, was entertained for one 
splendid hour. 

When they were served with black tea that was dressed 
with citron water. 

Was it the melodious notes of the harp? Was it the deli- 


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299 


cate incense that wrapt them in fascination sublime? Pro- 
foundly sweet? 

The King become merry with a great wit. And he might 
have provoked the gods to a response. 

Gather ye Hours! Gather ye Graces. Play well for the 
Muses, thy rupturous music! Lo! Love has conquered all 
things. To-day. 

Sing. Sing more of the burning verses of the heart. Meter 
them, well too. Knowst thou a heart that loves. Is in 
strong desire. And the brain of thy King is not swathed in 
idle prattling. When I speak. 

For my Soul is hungry. And such a Soul as mine with its 
cherished desire for hot love! I trowth is not cured in its 
craving desire, not by the filmy threaded shadow of a stimu- 
lated hope. Never. But by possession. 

The King bent closer and kissed Queen Catherine with a 
nervous laugh while she embraced him, kissing him upon the 
brow. 

Then of the silent everywhere, a lull sprung forth. Then 
the King in a stern voice spake loudly and she sat upright. 

Passion! Thou fool, speakst the wise men of reason. Turn 
thine eyes without that low open window, and there in the 
distant fidds. It is truly there. Passion bourne of the 
redolence of the windows coming from yon redden languid 
poppy field. Behold the cunning nod of the drowsy poppy. 
And this delirious perfume doth harmonize in its wily way, 
with the fragrant spicy scented incense streaming from these 
golden fashioned censers. Which swing in this midnight blue 
harmony. 

Thy Soul is but bewitched and thy mind is only intoxi- 
cated with mad fancies. And this. Thou falsely name it 
Love! 

Queen Catherine pushed apart from the King. 

Husband mine, hearst thou this judgement of the wise 
man’s philosophy, in thine own opinion. 

Ah! There is. And from whence doth it come? A mad 
judgement upon me. Me thinks the crimson domain of the 
flaming Hell can revile no more. The past? Let it remain 
sealed within the tombs of yesterday. And today. This 
day, doth fetch happiness. Likewise each day forth. 

Now a solitude again not dismal. A silence steeped in 
drowsiness steeped in fantastic dreams was upon the King 
and upon the Queen. 


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Reclining in this quiet moment, they fell into light re- 
pose. 

Soon the evening shadows were falling. These capricious 
shadows played upon these two forms. In light and frivo- 
lous way. 

Sometime a few moments later. An attendant entered the 
chamber. He fastened the handsome and heavy leaded 
windows, lowering the rich blue velvet draperies. And 
lighted the exquisitely fashioned lanterns. 

The dull rich glow from these blue lanterns transformed 
the shadowy chamber of a few moments past into a marvel- 
ous splendour of softly hued light which settled upon every 
object in the chamber, making an artistic setting. 

This misty blue glow must have coaxed the King. For 
suddenly he arose. He walked directly to a chest. Which 
stood upon an ivory base. He drew a plaque containing 
some script. In an open censer upon a molten brass plaque 
was a slow burning blaze. Slowly. Slowly burning. 

And the vapory silence must have charmed the Queen like- 
wise. For. Upon this moment with a stupified gesture she 
aroused her drowsy mind. She sat very alert. 

The King was standing before the burning censer with 
the plaque in his fingers. 

She touched the King in a somewhat hazy manner. Thou? 
Broke from her lips. 

The King was holding the plaque over the blaze of the 
censer. 

A mist swam before her eyes and she knew it was the 
memories. Nay! A diary of the past months. Gently she 
threw her arms round his bent form. 

She stood thus until the last fragment of the script was 
consumed in the flame. 

When the King deftly turned the plaque over emptying the 
ashes from it. Into a huge clay urn which was upon a table. 
Nearby. 

And. The diary of the past was erased forever! 

The fury passion of many deeds. The murder of Mor- 
dane. The death of M. Clevelande. It was all sunk in 
oblivian. 

The King then placed this plaque upon the table and turn- 
ing he clasped Catherine in his arms. 

Gently reclining her lovely head upon his shoulder. An 
obtrusive sob shook her in a little convulsion. And the 
King caressed her more. 


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301 


Wife may St thy heavenly bosom no such passions of re- 
gret ever know again. 

Ne’er gleam there such another sorrow for thee. 

My precious one. Now givth me thy gracious smile. 
Such a smile possessed only by thy pretty lips. 

And the King placed the plaque into her hands. 

She lifted her voice in measured words. This. I be- 
queath unto thee, O Gods! 

“Ashes”.! Takst thou and upon thy breathe fiercely blow 
them away. Scatterst them wide. Blow them far upon yes- 
tern-night’s sands of time. 

And the King led Catherine to her gold brocaded divan. 
He placed her slender gold slippered feet upon a stool of 
blue brocade. He tenderly wrapped her blue mantle, en- 
riched in jewel designs of ruby and sapphire, about her 
marble white shoulders and shapely pink arms. 

He caressed her with kisses. And Catherine, his Queen. 
From her soul’s most cherished delight. A sweet laughter 
fell upon him from her lips. 

A laughter made to soothe a soul, to bask a faint heart. 

And to lavish the imagination to sweetest delights! 

Lo! And there is sweetest music all the day! 

CHAPTER XLIX. 

An Oriental Dream. 

A Red Red Rose unfold'd its pedals one day 
I found it steep’d in perfume and colour gay. 

With an inward beauty it smiled upon me 
And I paused. My heart was heavy with a memory. 
The gentle Zephyrs brushed my paled cheek 
Bearing a fragrance. I turned this perfume to seek 
When lo! The flashing colour of this rose smiled 
To me. I sigh’d with a new bourne hope. Beguil’d 
By the inspiration I caught from the Red Red Rose. 
Surely God is everywhere — for every care a sweet repose. 
He heralds unto thee and me- Be glad. O Heart 
Of mine. Cupid’s messengers lead us not apart 
But binds us in the perfect Garden of Sweet Love! 

Now in France. Princess Roxana had been crowned 
Queen, with great ceremonial celebration. The King Louis, 
the reigning King of France and the eldest brother to the 
Princess and to Canterre had passed away shortly after the 
coming of the Princess into France. 

Glorious was the beginning of her reign and a more beau- 


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tiful. A more lovable Queen never lived in the hearts of 
the people than did Roxana. 

One day many months after. Greetings were dispatched 
unto the Queen from the Persian Shah. He had been ap- 
prised by her own hand in communication of her newly in- 
heritance; that of being crowned Queen of France. 

Queen Roxana read the herald slowly. That she might 
gather the worth of each word. And having finished it a si- 
lence betook her. She sat in apparent listlessness, with her 
eyes riveted upon some frivolous object in her chamber. She 
knew not exactly what her eyes beheld. For a mist veiled 
her sight and before her eyes swam the dear memories of 
her home in Persia. Her palatial home and her childhood 
days, the days of her girlhood. And the last years of her 
free and luxurious life in sunny Persia. 

And so she sat in this sickening memory. 

The Queen looked a handsome picture. She was gowned 
in purple velvet. 

About her neck was hung an ivory chain upon which was 
suspended a magnificent golden locket set in pearls. And 
Ameythysts. This locket lay open in her hands and she had 
lowered her eyes. They were fastened upon a face which em- 
bellished the interior of this locket and which was held in 
by a gold band. The band being plain and ungamished. Her 
eyes gleamed with a passion, her face lighted with a love 
light and her round full lips opened in slow motion. And she 
whispered “My Heavenly Love”! 

She clasped the locket, then put her hands before 
her eyes as if to shut out the objects which floated before 
her in this chamber and round her. 

Oh! Gods of the Heavens! ’Tis a hungry heart calling 
only for its own. 

She was betaken by a sudden emotion and she did not at- 
tempt to choke back the sick sobs rising in her throat. 
Neither. Did she attempt to suppress her true feeling and 
she burst into a convulsion of weeping. Slowly then she 
lifted her tear stained face. To what? To the face within 
the locket. And from the azure mist of a dream the face 
smiled upon her. 

And the picture in the exquisite Ameythyst and pearl 
locket? 

It was the passion of the maiden’s first free love! 

And who is there among the Scientists, the philosophers 
who can explain the violent passion of this love? 


A Princess of the Orient 


303 


The Queen’s lips parted in a spoken name. “Willard” 
was this name which fell softly from her lips. 

She recalled in the most pleasant memories the happy 
days of her life in Persia. And this- with a homesickness. 

Once again she lived over these days. Back in Persia; 
and now before her mind it all passes in pictures. 

She sees the youths with the maidens in lover’s twain. 

Emblematic of youngest and early love. Behold! They 
are now dancing, merrily. They dance in the vast and capa- 
cious gardens nearest the palatial garden. And the Queen 
recognized the dance with a swelling feeling of greatest hil- 
arity. It was the Atan. And the Atari was the chosen dance 
of the merry youths in Persia. Suddenly. The Atari is done. 

She follows them far without into the fields. They go to 
enter into the practice of their favoured sport. Tilting. 
How they enter into this jousting. Glorious and splendid! 

Farther her mind travels. Into the gay pomegranite 
fields. Into the indolent poppy fields and then she finds 
herself into the tangled crowded jangals. And this picture 
lingers with her most. It fastens itself within her thoughts 
clinging close. And there was more too. There doth walk 
in manly pride, a prince. Among the Persians. Who is this 
prince He who walks with such princely pride and culture 
in their midst? 

One soul thought recognized the figure of this gallant 
prince. Prince Willard. And her bosom swelled with pride. 
Such a pride only embedded within a maiden’s heart for her 
sweetheart. 

As the Queen moved with a somewhat anxious stir a 
raven’s lock of hair fell and stubbornly lay upon her rosy 
full cheek. She impatiently brushed it away. And then it 
was. Then. Her sweetest dream of mental vision was dis- 
sipated. She aroused her dreamy mind, arising from her 
brocaded divan. Fully awakened to the realistic surround- 
ings. She was Queen of France and was residing within 
France and not in Persia. And she was moved with a hold 
of a fuller meaning that swept her Soul and through her 
lingering tears. Again. She smiled. She walked to one side 
of her chamber and she opened a long door which had sunk 
art glass in its panels, and which led her into a reading 
lodge. 

Now within this lodge she reclined herself upon a bench. 
The long door was closed and she sat quite secluded. 

She searched for a book and taking a dark leathern bound 


304 


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book she opened it. She restlessly attempted to read a few 
lines. It was the philosophy of Plato. Alack! This rich 
philosopher appeared in broken words and upon glimmering 
lines before her eyes. Then. Suddenly upon the page be- 
fore her, the reading was transformed into gaudy coloured 
pictures and faces of memory. Merciful Gods! the dis- 
turbed Queen cried. I rest not in any mind to read intelli- 
gently. My foolish mind doth picture only Persia lands. 
Again the people of Persia. Why? Do mine eyes behold 
away in far Persia, the graceful lanterns torched? 

And they burn as they swing gracefully in the walled 
gardens. The spicy incense in sweet breathe, I do inhale. 
The sijvered gongs are set to ringing and Bacha falls upon 
his face. 

The Queen brushed her hand over her face, to relieve her 
mind. 

Alack! I would I were there. In this bright land of Persia. 

Upon this moment she was interrupted. 

Day dreams Sister mine? Come. Night is fashioned for 
dreams. And to-night! Upon this night Roxana, the grand- 
est ball ever given in France, will shine in extravagant beau- 
ties. Ah! Let Old Glory shine out! And remember thou 
beautiful sister mine. France stands in goodly repute in the 
Calender of brilliant balls. Its balls most gorgeous, always 
beautiful affairs. 

It was Vivian who had entered the Queen’s chamber. Vi- 
vian was now in the spirit of the people of Canterre’s Royal 
House. And in truth she did proud the heart of Roxana with 
her loyal sentiments. 

Sister Vivian, I am very happy this day. This day of 
many days doth bear its charm upon me with an enchant- 
ment. 

And Sister, asked Vivian with a mischievious glance, what 
news hast come to thee? 

Only this my dear. I stand entranced with a volume of 
sweetest delights. There is upon my soul a tenderness that 
doth not alone soften but makes me delightfully happy. Ah! 
I could ring out such happiness upon France and feel good. 

I pry thee. Sister. What is this sweet joy? I trowth some 
gallant paying court at thy heart’s Shrine? 

Whereupon Roxana started slightly but remained silent. 

Who comes tonight, I pry thee Sister Roxana? 

Foolish, curious Sister. That, I prythee wait until the 
hour of this night doth open a secret for thee. 


A Princess of the Orient 


305 


Vivian leaned towards the Queen, she pointed her finger 
at her in a playful mood. 

Then. There is a secret, a hidden lover lurking in the 
shadows of the portals of thy free heart, sister mine? 

Sister, thou hast asked. Who will be here to-night? 
There will be a number of foreign dignitaries present to- 
night. They come for this grand ball. And may they not 
go away disappointed. May France shine out tonight as 
never before. 

O Queen, Your Royal Highness! A visitor doth await 
thy greeting. 

And the ladies looked up at this voice. It was an at- 
tendant who stood before the Queen. 

She turned to him. And the name? 

The attendant bearing the plate presented the card to 
the Queen. 

She held the name card for a moment, then she lifted it 
before her eyes, closer. 

“Sovereign Prince Willard of the Persian Royal House.” 

She started and dropped the card. 

Vivian stooped to pick it up but the attendant reached 
the spot where it lay before she could reach it. And he 
placed it into the hand of Roxana. 

The Queen impulsively put her hand over her heart, 
drawing a long breathe. 

Her face was flushed and her fingers clutched the handle 
of her lorgnon, nervously. 

She, then sat forth with her former dignity. 

Admit this gentleman. But. Stay. Bear unto him this 
greeting. 

The Queen Roxana doth welcome the Sovereign Prince 
Willard most anxiously. Come at once into the royal 
chamber. 

The attendant nimbly sped out of the chamber. 

Vivian quickly gained the side of the Queen. And ques- 
tioned her with a look. 

Sister who is this visitor? Thou art very much agitated. 
He can be no ill bearer of news? It can not be. And with 
a look of fright, she crept closer to the Queen. It can not 
be of Theron, Sister? 

At the mention of Theron’s name. The Queen frowned in 
disapproval. 

Nay. Sister. Do not mention the name of that man to 
me again. It irritates me. Much. It is a blacken memory 


306 


A Princess of the Orient 


which must remain concealed within the mausoleum of 
yestern-day. 

Vivian drew a relieved sigh. 

Then. Who is this gentleman? Thou art so intensely 
moved. 

The Queen held the card out to her and taking the card 
she read the name. 

She glanced up at the Queen and then. She knew this 
strange Prince meant much to her Queen Sister. 

At just this moment, this royal gentleman was escorted 
into the rose tinted chamber. He was led before the Queen. 
And she stood to greet him. 

Koxana! Exclaimed the Prince. Then a confusion caused 
him to falter. 

I humbly beg thy pardon. The Queen! and he bent upon 
his knee before her and kissed the hand of the Queen with 
a most polite execution. 

Willard, arise! Thou art welcome in France. 

And the two stood facing one another. The Queen’s face 
was lovely with faint blushes while the Prince stood dumb 
with an unspeakable delight. Unlike the Queen; for the 
sudden and violent emotions of a man are never portrayed 
in a man. The same as in a woman. 

I prythee. Sister Vivian, Prince Willard, I present my 
Sister Vivian. Good wife to my brother Canterre. 

I grant it the greatest pleasure Lady Vivian, to make thy 
charming acquaintance, and the Prince bowed kissing her 
hand. 

Greetings! Prince Willard! I am indeed much favoured. 
It gives me great pleasure to bid thee welcome into our sunny 
France. 

And the Prince bowed in a silent attitude which is dis- 
tinctly oriental. 

Sister Roxana. I beg thy forgiveness, I leave thee now. 

Whereupon Vivian smiling sweetly left the chamber be- 
fore Roxana could bid her stay. 

An awkard moment. Then the Queen in gracious manner 
turned to the Prince. 

Willard do. I prythee, recline thyself upon this divan. 
She pointed to a gold leaf chair which stood near the spot 
where they were standing. 

Roxana I have dared with the wildest hope, I have 
traveled impatiently. I have waited. I have longed for 
this hour. When I might once more be with thee. Not as 


A Princess of the Orient 


307 


the Queen of France. Only. As the lovely Roxana of the 
Sunny Persia. 

Thou hast not forgotten. Nay! Thy herald didst bear 
these heavenly words. 

“Come to me Willard.” 

Here he faltered and she lowered her eyes demurely. 

Willard, I wanted thee. Too. I wanted thee more than 
any one else in the world. I wanted thee more than any 
thing else in the world and I could restrain myself 
no longer. - I wrestled hard with my torn heart. Until. 
Enfin, I surrendered, and I scribed thee. 

Roxana! And I come to thee. On the wings of love, as 
it were. Ah! How heavenly! To be with thee Roxana. To 
be once more in thy presence and to look upon thy sweet 
lovely face. To embrace thee and with this blessed privi- 
lege of sweet kisses. 

The handsome Prince embraced her in a most affectionate 
way. He covered her face with the most passionate kisses 
and he looked long upon her with more ardent eyes. 

She lifted her eyes to him in a mute glance. 

Willard, thou hast not forgotten me. It. makes me hap- 
pier than any thing else in this universe for I have wanted 
thee. And thou hast forgiven me? 

As the Queen uttered these words she lowered her glance 
in a most timid manner. 

While he gathered her in his arms and holding her in the 
fondest embrace he answered her saying. 

Forget? As if such love as mine doth ever forget? Nay! 
Darling I love thee, too much! I did love thee and I shall 
always love thee. 

And forgive? Why ask such a light question? There is 
naught to forgive. Only. Thou, my beautiful one hast 
caused me to love thee with a burning passion. 

Alack! I would have it no other way. For in loving thee 
dearest. I am the happiest of all men. I want to love thee. 
Thee only. 

The glance of the Queen’s eye thrilled the Prince. 

And I? Willard I am hungry for thy love. My hand has 
reached out just for the touch of thy hand. My eyes have 
penetrated the every where for a glance from thy eyes. And 
this everywhere, only has filled the ghosts of my memories. 

Ah! but sweet and comforting were they. I have longed 
for thee. In public life I have thought of thee and within 
the closet of my own chamber I have prayed for thee. For 


308 


A Princess of the Orient 


just one word of love from thee, my Prince. I have longed 
for thee in a most unhappy way. And now. It is heavenly 
to recline my head upon thy manly breast as in days long 
past. The careless days in Sunny Persia. 

The days when we were both younger, Willard. 

The silence now which settled upon this happy pair was 
more worthy than fancy words. 

The dark skinned Oriental Prince of Persia in his royal 
robes bore a mighty picture. And the Queen in her purple 
robe of velvet with amethysts, with pearls was the charac- 
teristic. The handsome dignified Queen of France. 

Never a twilight descended softer and more entrancingly 
beautiful than upon this night in Paris. A light zephyr 
bent the trees. A silvery haze played amid the graceful 
branches of these trees. 

Without all was entrancing. Within all was brilliant. 
Le grand palais was a gorgeous spectacle for le bal pare. 

The decorations within le grand palais were of very ex- 
quisite taste. The artistic lanterns hung low and were 
brilliant. There were clusters of brilliant lights hanging 
high. The whiten marble fountain held continuous streams 
of silvered water which poured forth from the most rare 
silver birds, like dew drops into their pools. A dull blacken 
iron balcony lodge was lighted with ivory lanterns banded 
in conventional sections with strips of ebony. And the lights 
were midnight blue. The music floated from the blacken 
lodge in perfect measure. And the long grand march 
was begun. 

The parties occupying the artistic lodge upon the round 
balcony were most eager that the grand march should be- 
gin. 

All nobility lifted their lorgnons to their eyes. 

Who was this dark skinned gentleman? This stranger 
who was leading their Queen by her dainty hand? 

Slowly the march was begun. Led by Queen Roxana and 
the Sovereign Prince. 

Curious glances were bent upon them. Whispers were 
heard. Fast and many. 

But no one knew the dark skinned gentleman. 

The long march moved in lines, in conventional figures. 
And it was a perfect sight. Just as the march was finished. 

Queen Roxana with the Sovereign Prince was escorted to 
the Royal lodge. The lodge had been effectively decorated 


A Princess of the Orient 


309 


for the Queen. Highly finished were these decorations. And 
of rarest fashion. 

The royal group sat within the Queen’s lodge enjoying 
greatly, themselves. 

The dancers were merry and exuberant was the entire 
setting. 

The spirited contrast of the vastly different coloured robes 
worn by the ladies. Sombre. Quiet. Flaming and bright. 
All lent a charm of interesting admiration. 

Pardi. Le grand palais was this night. The gods’ gar- 
den. The muses were gathered and the nymphs played sure- 
ly. It enchanted the heart e’en unto the most quiet of these 
guests assembled there. 

The distinguished Prince, what an Oriental air was his! 
His dusky skin flushed with pride, his dark passionate eyes. 
His clustery black hair worn back from his intelligent fore- 
head. His acutely cut nose, a strong mouth displaying dic- 
tinctly well shaped teeth. All this in the Oriental Prince in- 
spired a kindly admiration from the guests; and they 
thrust admiring glances upon him. While he moved uneasily 
under these searching glances. 

And could such a manly youth do better than to stand a 
Prince among his people. 

The people. Rather the guests there in the ball court 
noted his glance was ever bent upon the Queen who sat by 
his side, radiant in her happiness. 

To-night our Queen doth make all France proud. 

It was the voice of Lady Vivian. 

Fair Lady Vivian, thou dost so love thy Queen then? And 
the Prince leaned forward with his eyes still upon Roxana. 

Vivian laughed. Perchance. Proudly. Ah! My dear 
Prince to know our Queen is to love her. She is precious to 
every heart in France. Her goodness, her wide charity and 
her liberal greatness doth warm the hearts of all in France. 

Sister! Sister, spake Roxana. Thou doth chat too much 
in ready compliment and in idle flattery. 

Pardon, my Lady Vivian, spake the Prince. 

May I not assume the very great privilege to endorse thy 
spoken sentiments. 

To know thy Queen is only to be her slave. 

And the Prince cast his dark eyes devouringly upon the 
face of the Queen as he spake. And there were volumes in 
this look. 

A few moments. Did the Prince know how many moments? 


310 A Princess of the Orient 

When he lifted them once more Lady Vivian had left 
them alone. 

Roxana may we not steal away from the dancers and go. 
Thinkst thou into la Serre? La Sere is beautiful. And to- 
night upon such an occasion it must be a gloriously inviting 
nook. Snugly away from the merry guests. 

If such is thy desire Willard she answered sweetly and she 
placed her arm through his arm. 

They went and there were but a few lorgnons playing upon 
their retreating forms. 

This was a trysting place of lovers! For fond hearts. 
Where all is met in open court to sing love verses. And 
Roxana with her Prince lover stood within this La Serre. 

It was as beautiful as the fairyland scribed in their 
childish rhymes. 

The Prince plucked one dainty cluster of pinkest roses 
that bent in a graceful nod, near where they stood. 

Roxana I prythee. Pardon for this crime. My hand did 
but answer the roses as they smiled so openingly before my 
eyes. 

In imploring terms did not the roses bid me? 

Pluck me, pluck me, kind sir, for the fair queen of thy 
heart. 

And now the elegantly dainty roses nestled upon the 
bosom of Roxana. Half hidden. Half concealed by the 
ornaments of seed pearls upon her robe. Which made the 
rose look pinker. And too. More delicate. 

The Prince bent over her with a sudden perturbed move, 
held by some abrupt thought. 

Roxana. Then thou hast really not forgotten me? 

Forgotten thee, Willard? Answered the Queen. A blush 
reddened her face even to the tips of her tiny pink ears were 
reddened. And she held out her lily white hands to him. 

He caught her hands, covering them with kisses. Fondly 
he clasped them in his own hands and held them. 

Willard. As tender blossoms did once edge our roaming 
pathways leading us into the wildest jangals when we were 
in Persia. When thou were a lad and I, a maid of tender 
years. So the sweet memories of those days have held my 
thoughts like a benediction. And they descended upon my 
heart like the song of the lark. And Willard. There was a 
lark that would sing, as if to me, while I reclined within my 
chamber and he sat upon the swinging boughs of the tall 


A Princess of the Orient 


311 


lime trees. And many times I could see him through my 
open window. 

This, in the days of my new reign. My life in France. 
These memories have come silently to me. Stealing upon 
me many, many times. When I felt lonely. And so much 
alone. They always served to charm my disquieted mind 
and to intoxicate my whole being with a deep, a pathetic 
sweetness. Perchance. Willard thou wouldst feign name it 
a foolish train of thoughts. 

It is our. wisest philosopher who versed his thoughts that 
only to-day belongs to mortal. Yestern day doth lie deep 
within the tombs of the past. Never. To be called forth. 

Now the Prince raised his hand to her lips. 

Roxana these memories. Such memories of this long ago 
yestern day! Gods, how long have I suffered in thy mysti- 
fied absence? 

She uttered a faint cry. One of grief but she spake not 
a word. And he continued. 

These days Roxana. They belong to thee and to me, even 
were they bourne of the yestern days! The days, the months 
came. They passed. Yet they lingered in their cold cheer- 
lessness. In dismal loneliness. And I found thee not. The 
days passed without fetching thee. Neither any news of 
thee, back to me. And further, in silent tread these months 
bore on. Ye gods! I cried. Takst them away. I can bear 
them no more. My heart already cold in marble throb was 
all too nearly bruised. 

The Prince stared as if a madness had betook him. And 
Roxana very timidly touched his arm. 

Willard, mats a cette heure is upon thee and me. I pry- 
thee let us forget. How blithe these memories will be. How. 
Gladsome the days! How superb the nights. Willard, my 
Prince canst thou not see? The heavens, they are smiling. 
And the midnight skies are calling for thee and for me to 
come. To dwell in the gilded castle of love. 

There remains but one dark memory. And that memory 
is of the most vehement kind. The days I spent in Cairo. 
I wouldst speak of them. Willard, now. And then they 
shall be sunk into the tombs of yestern day. They shall 
be forgotten days of an idle and wild fancied life. And 
banished forever. 

My adorable one! Not a word of this to me. What 
played in the hours of thy life in Cairo. It was surely thy 
will. They belonged to thee, likewise their memories. I 


312 


A Princess of the Orient 


prythee do not make mention of them again. I shall deny 
mine ear. 

My Queen, a heart that truly loves, forever cherishes its 
fond image. It locks it within its closed doors. And so, I 
have locked the image of my heart’s desire deep. The face 
of my beautiful Roxana. 

But Willard! My life in Cairo, I prythee permit me to 
speak of it. Then forever. Together we shall cast it into the 
sea of forgetfulness. Deep! Deep! 

But the Prince only pressed his fingers gently upon her 
parted lips. I forbid. Severely. Roxana thou art here. 
It is enough. The gods have fetched for thee and for me a 
beautiful unfettered love. Come let us accept of it. Is it 
not divinely beautiful, my darling? 

After all these months of gloomy seperation, to stand here, 
together? In dear sweet love’s embrace? 

The Queen threw herself in the arms of the Prince. In 
an unbroken silence of ecstasy. Their Souls meditated in 
a deep unfathomable communion. And in this moment 
they understood. 

It was the unspeakable! 

Then. He raised the happy lighted face of Roxana in his 
two hands and he looked lovingly into her dark eyes. 

Sweetheart of my youth. Pride of my boyhood. Darling 
of my life! 

Speakst thou. Wilt thou come with me? Wilt thou now for- 
sake thy people, thy crown for thy Prince? 

He looked into her eyes with a light that comes from the 
deepest depth of his Soul. 

Her eyes fathomed the depth of his glance. She struggled. 
Between her loyalty to her own people and to the answer of 
her own heart. 

Then the purple light of duty cast its rays upon her and 
she smiled. 

The Prince bent over her and the smile died upon her lips. 
In her languishing eyes there was much to hide. And her 
head hung upon her bosom. 

He waited for her answer. And in waiting. In this 
moment of a silent fury that rushed upon them. A decision 
was made by both. 

This purple light of duty become dim to the Queen’s 
sight. Dimmer. 

For a halo of pink shadows filled everywhere round her. 


A Princess of the Orient 


313 


She struggled less. Then it was. Her mind was sinking into 
fascinating shadow. Her heart throbbed to be obeyed. 

And she spake as one does who walks in a vague but 
sublime dream. 

Who can deny it was the sublime dream of love? 

Willard, my heart’s desire! In my girlhood careless days. 
I was wont to enjoy the great Queen of France in the story 
book. This was in a glowing picture painted in the nursery. 
And now. I enjoy, just, this little of Queen of France. 
While I envy, just, one smile in the face of my Sovereign 
Prince and My Lord, Willard. 

“Favorite.” 

“Mow Prince.** 

And they stood in raptured embrace. 

The daring Sultana perched in Vaubepine without la 
Serre rehearsed its vesper song, mid the birds of the night. 

And a silence echoed to the hearts’ throb of these two 
royal lovers. 

The purpled heavens held fast their mid night hue. The 
twinkling stars sparkled even upon the water of the Seine. 
And ere Aurora had summoned the light hours of the com- 
ing day. This happy pair had pledged their vows. 

For the gods of love were soaring. . Round. Hovering 
near. 

In due time the Queen Roxana of France resigned her 
crown. She bequeathed it unto Canterre who remained heir 
next to Roxana. To the crown. 

Not many days after. King Canterre with his Queen, the 
beautiful Vivian. Stood bidding their farewells to the dark- 
skinned Prince and the Princess Roxana. 

Roxana was now the wife to Prince Willard. 

The happily wedded pair set upon the French waters 
making their' journey back into Persia. 

One long journey of blissful pleasures attended by the 
happy days of a newly wedded pair! Their hearts filled 
with delights of new charms. 

One day, after many days of this journey. The day was 
the smile of love’s sweetest story. 

The journey was all but finished. The royal pair were 
nearing their future home. 

The Princess keen with anxious hope to reach her old 
home was intensely happy. 

She was singing softly. Every thing delighted her. Na- 
ture and man alike. 


314 


A Princess of the Orient 


It was with the pleasure of no mean measure that the 
Prince watched her In this pretty attitude of cheerfulness. 

And his large nature drunk in her sentiments. They were 
sailing upon some waters for a short distance, after having 
passed through a part of the desert. 

The picturesque white sand mounds. Which dotted the 
desert through which they had just traveled had been beauti- 
ful. 

The sublime silent desert. Enticing with its awful silence. 
Now upon these pretty waters they could but compare 
Nature’s work. 

The desert a sea of white and yellow sands. The river. A 
sea of green waters. Surely it was a splendid contrast. 

The Prince stood with his arm around the Princess. He 
smiled down upon her; and a proud desire was his! 

Sweetheart, thou art happy in leaving thy throne? Thy 
people? Thy all to abide with me in Persia lands? 

Why ask this question of me, husband mine? 

My Princess, a voice hath whispered to me. It doth haunt 
me. Albeit. It was a voice spoken in cold tones of sane 
reason. 

A voice hath spoken to thee husband? What strange hap- 
pening doth thee bear to me upon thy lips? 

It was the voice of my conscience. Perhaps. I know not. 
It spake. 

Prince thou hast taken a woman from a Queen’s powerful 
chair. And what canst thou give her in its place? 

My beloved Princess. It is all too true. I have taken 
thee from the highest position, from the royal chair. A 
Queen of the French people. And to what am I leading 
thee? 

Only to be the wife to a Sovereign Prince. It was my sel- 
fish love for thee. Have I not wronged thee, darling wife of 
my bosom? 

My Prince Husband! I forsake all for thee? 

Then. Givth me thine ear. Permit me to recline my 
head upon thy breast. Hold me fast dearest. Fast in thy 
two strong arms. 

He clasped her in his arms, and she reclined sa tUe upon 
his breast. 

And putting her arms around his neck she closed her eyes. 

And wonderously fair she was to the Prince. “Like a 
flower.” He whispered. 


A Princess of the Orient 


315 


And more beautiful were her words which charmed him 
to an insane delight. 

“My Lord. Whither thou goest, I will go. Thy People 
shall be my People! 

Then silence all. When she slowly opened her eyes and as 
she met the eyes of her Princely husband. Their lips met 
in a kiss. 

The barge majestically moved upon the green waters. 
The giddy sunbeams like jewels kissed the dancing waters. 
And the waters enamoured of these saucy kisses rippled with 
frolicsome laughters. 

The Oriental Sun petitioned its jeweled sunbeams in dar- 
ing and in courageous pursuit of this barge. And all the way 
they pursued it. They sparkled like diamond dew-drops. 

And. From another luminous house far. Yet seem- 
ingly near. In the heavens, a meteor fell like cups of gems. 
The precious gems were of fortune, health and prosperity! 
And another. For God, like man, loves a lover true. 

The hearts of this wedded oriental pair pulsated in love as 
the gayly trimmed barge bore them on into a palace where 
sunlight never fades! 

And around this palace a garden grew. 

White orchids with Orange blossoms, for wed-lock. 
A harbor filled with red roses for lovers true. 
Narcissus, jonquils, the variegated hollyhock 
Lilacs, purple and white, lilies too took their part 
Every flower did grow. But nay! There were no 

Bleeding hearts! 

CHAPTER L. 

The Philosophy of the Gods. 

The skies are blue. So they are in the everywhere. 

Not alone in Persia land. The amourous Sun doth glow 
Not alone in Egypt. But. Likewise in France as fair. 

The zephyrs breathe everywhere. Delicate incense, sweet 
Hope. 

In Persia. They play the nodding poppy rich and scarlet. 
They bend the silver’d sycamore in darkest Oriental Eg^t. 
And France is intoxicated — ’Tis the wine of the Lily’s 
Omelet. 

Pomegranites outline Persia: the Sultana doth slyly steep 
The red Rose. The Egyptian sylva flaunts the stately Lotus 
Bourne by the Scared Ibis. Old France in proud glory 
Girts herself with delight in Laurels. The Peacock lust 
Of pride kneels at her Shrine. In romantic Persia land 


316 


A Princess of the Orient 


The white Lilac edges the Sacred Pool. Upon the Sands 
Of the Nile, the yellow Lily blooms. And the French St}^ 
Is surrounded by the field Daisy. O, Mortal I Thou seekst 
The constancy of the Pearl in Persia? In a heart there it 
lies. 

In Egypt. Seekst thou the warm glow of the Ruby? Steepen’d 
In a human heart’s blood thou wilt find it. And gost thou 
Into France. The noble Amethyst to find? I have found 
It Sire. At the Shrine of one human heart. A Human Heart 1 
O, Creatures of fancy! Thou art so surely Creatures of Dust. 
An image of Man. Ever rememberst thou. A loving heart 
Remains a faithful heart. Thou mayst travel in many 
distant parts 

Of God’s magnificent Universe. Thou will find all mankind 
Alike. Created in the Image of God’s likeness. Find 
Them wearing a jeweled crown of humanity. The rarest 
jewel — ^Love! 



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